Our Kind
by 7.06andcounting
Summary: 'Maybe Sylvia was right. Whatever I thought about her motives. Whatever I thought about her actual relationships. She did get the guy she wanted when she wanted him.' Sandy's gone, their lives are about to be turned upside down. Whose advice will Evie take and how far will she go, to get Steve back? Sequel to 'The Only Kind'. Swearing, drug use and general disorder ahead.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: And we're back! Thank you if you've been waiting. If you haven't, I should point out this is a sequel to 'The Only Kind' and it would make sense to read that first, because I'm picking up right where we left it. :) I do not own The Outsiders.**

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**The Saturday of the rumble.**

I flew out of the bathroom, barely clutching a towel around me, grabbing the phone at arm's length. My heart sank when I heard Sylvia's voice. Stupid. Every time. I was stupid to think it would be Steve. He was never much for calling, even before this. _Shit, I wish he'd call._

I thought she was just babbling about Dallas, but I started paying attention when I heard her say Johnny's name.

"Wait. Go back, what?" I sat on the bottom stair.

"Christ, Evie, I can only tell ya what I heard. Dally found 'em. Johnny and Soda's kid brother. They're in the hospital. They were in a fire."

"_What?"_ I couldn't begin to imagine what had happened. "Are they okay?"

"I dunno. I heard Johnny's bad. I'mma head over there, see Dal, if I can." She paused. "You wanna come with me?" She sounded unsure, maybe nervous. Not like her.

"I got work, Sylvia."

"Yeah, okay." She recovered, became her brash self again. "Listen, what d'ya wanna do about the rumble tonight?"

What did I want to do? _Stop it._ Make sure Steve and Soda and Two-Bit and every single one of them didn't have to go up against the kind of people who'd started all this, the kind of lousy, arrogant fuckers who thought they owned this town and had the right to hurt kids like Ponyboy and Johnny. Socs who might hurt Steve.

She continued. "I figure The Dingo would be the best place to hear. We could go together."

And as much as I didn't want it to happen, I needed to know the outcome more. I needed to know how bad he got hurt. Besides, I'd spent three nights crying in my room. I needed to get back some connection to Steve.

"Yeah. I'll be home by six." I arranged to meet her. I wasn't going to front up at The Dingo on my own and it wasn't as if I had a huge choice of companions any more. I could put up with her while I waited for news.

xXx

We weren't the only girls waiting. As I looked around the diner, I saw several groups nervously chatting or glancing at the clock, looking in their compacts, checking hair and lipstick that didn't need checking.

I suspected we were the only ones not waiting for specific boys. Although possibly Sylvia was hoping to benefit from whatever post-fight adrenaline Dallas needed to work out. When I'd pointed out he was still in the hospital – and he hadn't let her see him – she just smiled and said, "Ain't no way Dally'll miss this rumble."

So maybe he would be needing some nursing, or loving, or whatever these girls were all waiting to provide for their guys. I had no hope, despite Sylvia's assertion, that Steve would come looking for me. No hope at all.

"You'll see," she'd told me, with an air of superiority. "Soon as they get done congratulating each other, they start wantin' to show off in other ways. Randle'll be beggin' to get into bed with ya!"

I didn't bother to argue with her. But I knew Steve wouldn't be begging me for anything. _He hated me, he looked like he hated me. _I tried not to think about that. I just wanted to know that he was okay. That got me to thinking about who else would be there tonight.

"Did you know your brother runs with the Shepard gang?" I asked out of idle curiosity.

Sylvia snorted. "Trey? Yeah, I know. Buzz was _not_ happy. He hates Shepard's guts. But Trey likes a fight, he'll do good tonight."

We ordered Cokes we didn't really want. Ran down the other girls' threads, out of their earshot. Ignored any catty looks that came our way. There were plenty. Sylvia was never popular with any girl who had a boyfriend. They feared her 'man magnet' reputation. Plus news travels pretty fast in our neighborhood. I was sure they knew we'd both been dumped, making me single and a liability too. Probably, they even knew about Sandy, who was conspicuous by her absence from our table.

I knew one or two of the other girls by name. But after I'd dropped out, it was too easy to lose touch with people. I didn't belong to any of the groups they kept themselves in. I'd spent the summer with the Curtis gang - not that _they_ called themselves that, they weren't as arrogant as Tim 'the world revolves around me' Shepard. But Steve and Soda and Dallas, that's who people around here would associate me with now, regardless of the fact I'd been cut loose.

Hadn't always been that way, though, and as a couple of cars pulled into the lot, I nudged Sylvia. She shrugged dismissively.

"Brumly."

"_News_." I corrected her, sliding out of the booth. I pulled Sylvia with me and elbowed through the crowd of kids in the doorway, towards the blue T-Bird. The rain was easing off, but the Brumly guys were covered in mud. More mud than blood, I was pleased to see.

"Hey, Barratt. You okay?" I smiled as he turned around, surprised.

"_Evie?_ Hey, sweetie. I'm all good. Never better, in fact." He had a split lip and a deep scratch gouged across his forehead, but it looked like it was done bleeding. I was aware of Sylvia checking him out. I smiled to myself, even she would have a tough time snagging him.

"What happened?" I handed Barratt the Coke I hadn't drunk. He took a long swig, spilling a little as it hurt his lip. The other guys who'd climbed out of his car had chicks swarming over them. It wouldn't do his rep any harm to have me pay him a little attention.

"Kicked their Socy asses." He grinned, wiping his chin. "Fuckin' weasels ran like the cowards they are."

The air of celebration should have told us that. Kids were running from car to car, passing on scraps of information, whooping and hollering.

"Anyone hurt bad?"

He shrugged, looking over at the other Brumly boys. "Mason hadda be taught a lesson, but we're okay."

"Was Dallas there?" Sylvia blurted, unable to contain herself any longer. Barratt nodded.

"Winston? Yeah. I saw him."

Sylvia gave me one of her 'told you so' looks. I ignored her.

"What about the others? Did you see the Curtis boys? They okay?" I just couldn't bring myself to ask directly about Steve.

"_Everyone_ was walking, sweetie, far as I could see. Nobody got hurt that bad." Barratt looked amused. "Who you hangin' out for news of, huh?"

"We should go to Buck's." Sylvia interrupted before I could answer. "I betcha they end up there."

Barratt drained the Coke. "Need a ride?" He was such a nice guy. I shook my head.

"I ain't going." I turned to Sylvia. "I just wanted news, y'know that. I'mma head home."

She looked thoughtful. "Yeah, maybe you're right. He'll know he can find me at home." The news that we'd won seemed to have fired Sylvia up. She was acting like it was a done deal, that Dallas was definitely coming back to her. She was also shooting me meaningful looks, darting her eyes at Barratt.

"What?" I frowned at her.

She dragged me a few paces away. "You got history with this guy? You got a perfect opportunity right there. Get him to drive you around a little, or at least hang here, rub Randle's nose in it."

I shook my head. Not that Barratt wouldn't do it. He'd probably think it was a gas. But I just didn't think it would work on Steve. Sylvia rolled her eyes, she obviously considered me a hopeless case.

But I did at least hug Barratt when I said goodbye. Not for one second because I thought it would get back to Steve, but because he'd been in a fight like all the other boys and I thought he could do with it. He winced a little, so I told him to get some ice on his ribs real soon.

He smiled at me. "There's gonna be a reshow of The Hustler, next week or so, over at The Circle. You wanna go?"

xXx

I was groggy with too little sleep after staying up drinking coffee all night. I knew Steve wouldn't call me. I knew that. But I was still worried about him, wondering if he'd been hurt, or rather, how badly. No matter what Barratt had said, no matter that we'd won, that the Socs had run, it was still a fight and Steve wouldn't have come out completely unscathed.

I spent some time remembering how he'd been after the fight with Ricky. That was the worst I'd seen him injured. He'd been so out of it, on those painkillers, he might as well have had flowers in his hair, and still he'd been trying to get in my underwear. I missed him so bad.

I tried to forget the look on his face the last time I'd seen him.

I sat up, drinking coffee after coffee, in case he called.

When I fell into bed just after four in the morning, I didn't even undress properly.

Sarah stopped midsentence when she burst into my room, staring at me.

"Evie, your friend's...have you been to bed _at all_?" she said. She was in her robe. It was light out but I couldn't work out what time it was. Sarah motioned for me to hurry and follow her. "Your friend's here. You'd better come."

"Sandy?" I wasn't thinking straight. Or maybe she'd always be my immediate reaction when someone said the word 'friend', possibly for the rest of my life.

"No, not Sandy." She clicked her tongue at me, impatiently. "The bottle blonde, Sandy's friend. Evie, move it!"

I stumbled down the stairs. As soon as I saw her, I knew why Sarah was rattled.

Sylvia was sitting on the edge of one the kitchen chairs, turned away from the table, hunched over, shivering. She looked up at me, her expression ghastly, her face drained of colour. I walked over to her in slow motion. Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

"Sylvia?" I didn't want to know, I was sure of that.

"_Dallas_."

If I hadn't known his name, I might not have caught the whisper for what it was. I was aware of Sarah pouring coffee, putting a mug within Sylvia's reach. She didn't notice. I crouched down in front of her, took her hand. "What about Dallas?"

She was looking right at me, but I wasn't sure she was seeing me. "_Dallas is dead_."

"At the rumble? They killed him?" I was confused.

"No. No." She shook her head. "After. They shot him. They..._shot him_."

I glanced at Sarah, her eyes were wide.

"Sylvia? What the hell happened? The Socs ran, _we won_, for Chrissakes, we heard that. Barratt, _everyone _last night_,_ said that...What d'ya mean 'they shot him'? The Socs jumped him after the rumble?" I couldn't begin to work out what had happened.

Sylvia started taking great gulps of air, like she'd forgotten how to breathe. "Not the Socs." She shook her head. "_The cops_ shot him. They shot Dally. After the rumble..." It came tumbling out of her, once she started. "After the rumble...he had a heater, y'know, but he wouldn'ta used it, he was just...After Johnny died, he went crazy, he held up a store. They shot him, the cops shot Dally..."

I sat down hard on the kitchen floor. It was like I had no bones holding me up.

"_Johnny_ died...?" I repeated. My voice sounded far away. She was looking through me again.

Sarah moved slowly towards me. She pulled me up off the floor and sat me in a chair. She hugged me as she did it, but I was past noticing.

"What about the other guys?" I couldn't begin to understand how this had happened, I could only think of them together.

They would have been together.

_Hadn't they been together? _

_What about Steve? _I wanted to scream.

Sylvia didn't speak. I looked at Sarah, panicking, unable to process anything properly.

Sarah poured a lot of sugar into the coffee and placed Sylvia's hands around the cup. She came to a little, and drank some. I waved away the one Sarah offered me.

"Sylvia? What about all the other boys? Is anyone else hurt?" Sarah's voice was steady and firm.

Sylvia shook her head. "I don't think so. _Dally_...Dally wouldn'ta used it, they didn't need to...They didn't need to do that."

"Who told you?" A cold chill went down my spine. How did she know? She'd been home, like me, hadn't she? Sylvia's eyes slid away from mine. I repeated the question sharply.

"Jack. He called me. He was...there..."

I stood up so fast I knocked the chair over, backing up in horror, away from Sylvia, until I hit the wall and I couldn't escape any further. Sarah looked shocked at my reaction, at whatever I was showing on my face.

"_He was there_? What d'ya mean, '_he was there'?_ Jesus Christ, Sylvia, you don't mean _he_ shot Dallas?" I had no idea how I'd been able to put that into words. For once, I was glad my mouth had done it before my brain thought about it. The cop - _her cop_ - the one she'd been two-timing Dallas with...

Sylvia started crying. Great sobs wrenched out of her as she hugged herself into a tiny ball. "He wouldn't tell me, he wouldn't say, he just said Dallas got shot. But he was there. Oh God. Oh God, _he was there_..."

Sarah was looking at me like every cell in her body was waving a sign saying, 'What the hell?' I realized I was going to vomit and I ran to the bathroom.

"Evie, honey, it's okay. You're okay." Sarah ran a wash cloth under the cold water and wiped my face as I sat on the edge of the tub, shivering. She put her arm around me.

"I can't believe it...I mean...I _can't_ believe it." I could not get my head around it, it was too big, it wasn't something that made any sense. Sarah just nodded and held me tight. After a few minutes she asked me why Sylvia was in _our_ kitchen.

I thought about the guys, who would have sided with Dallas, the way Steve had sided with Soda. I thought about Sylvia, a girl hated by all the other girls, for her ability to click her fingers and attract their boyfriends. I thought about Sandy, gone from both our lives.

"She ain't got no place else to go," I said, to myself as much as to Sarah.

I washed my mouth out, splashed water on my face. Then I went back into the kitchen, pulled up a chair and put my arms around Sylvia while she cried.

xXx

I was tired. I was more tired than I'd ever been in my life. Sylvia had eventually cried herself to sleep on Sarah's bed. It was more than we could do between us to get her up the stairs, in the state she was in, and we wanted her out of the way before Ma got up.

Sarah made toast and cocoa, like she used to when I was little and I was sick or scared. I hated storms when I was a kid and she would sit up with me half the night, feeding me soggy toast and reading me stories. I'd forgotten about that.

There was no storybook in the world that would help now. I gagged on the toast.

Sarah came up to my room and sat next to me on the bed.

"I called Tony."

I didn't respond. What did he have to do with anything? Her engagement ring winked at me, reproachfully.

"He asked around. There _was_ a boy shot by the cops last night."

"For Christ's sake, you think she made that up? For the hell of it?"

"He was her boyfriend, was he? This 'Dallas Winston'?" Sarah was being so calm, I wanted to shake her. "Because Tony says he was in the newspaper with the two who ran away, Darry's brother and the one who died."

My lips formed Johnny's name but no sound came out.

"God, Evie." Sarah rubbed her face. "I thought it was bad enough last week, when we found out why they ran away. Did you hang around with this Dallas character too?"

_Yeah, and I used to be scared of him. But he turned out to be okay. He took me on a scam he had going with illegal booze, that's how I knew where Tim Shepard hangs out with his gang. Dallas fought and stole and, oh, he was in the cooler all summer._

I didn't say any of that. I just told her I hadn't seen him recently. Lies were second nature to me now.

"Evie. You need different friends."

I laughed bitterly. "Well, that's been taken care of, ain't it? Remember? My best friend's halfway across the country, my boyfriend dumped me and two people I know...I knew..." I'd thought I was more angry than upset, but I couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't do more than sit there as the tears started and I sobbed.

Sarah put her arm around me. This time I told her the truth. The only truth that mattered.

"_I want Steve."_

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**Okay, so who's still in? Did I leave it too late to update?**

**All reviews welcome...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you everyone, I'm so glad to know you're there, reading, following, reviewing, whatever :)**

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I didn't have Sylvia's number, but I knew her address and her dad was her dad, not her stepdad, so I found the right Richardson in the phone book and called the number. Her brother Buzz answered. He picked up quickly, saying only, 'What?' which threw me slightly but since it was him she'd asked for when she woke up, I told him where she was.

He turned up about ten minutes later in a clean looking, dark red Bel Air. A very new car. A very nice, top of the range, car. But I was hardly going to ask for his pink slip. His hair was grown out some, he didn't look quite so 'fresh out on parole' any more. It made me think he was a little younger than I'd taken him for.

He seemed surprised that I knew who he was, when I opened the front door and greeted him. I suspected he didn't remember me from the time I'd turned up and walked past him into their house. If nothing else, I'd have recognized the tattoo of a hand of playing cards that wrapped across his bicep. It was classy work, the cards looked real.

"Was that you on the horn?" Buzz looked confused. He had Sylvia's eyes, a blue grey that I'd never seen on anyone else. "I thought you was that blonde chick Sylv's been hanging with."

I shook my head. "Sandy went out of state."

"Oh, yeah, I knew that." He nodded to himself, retrieving the cigarette he had tucked behind his ear. He didn't light it, just twirled it in and out of his fingers while he regarded me. Then he kind of shook himself, back to attention. "Winston fucked up big, this time, huh? Figures he'd find a way to cut out that would totally mess with her head."

Sylvia flew out onto the porch before I could invite him in. Buzz wrapped her in a hug, real gentle for such a well built guy. I wasn't sure if she had any more tears in her, but apparently she did. He spoke to me over her head.

"So, gonna take her home. You come by, any time. Okay?"

I nodded. What could I do? He assumed we were friends. Maybe we were.

xXx

My head was pounding as I rode the bus to work on Monday morning. I could see why sleep deprivation was used as torture.

Every time I'd closed my eyes, my mind whirled around. By two o'clock in the morning I was weeping with frustration at not being able to sleep. The vodka I'd swallowed on an empty stomach just made me feel nauseous, which pissed me off, because I'd only drunk it to get sleepy.

I wanted to know if Steve was okay. I wanted him to make me feel okay.

Whatever I thought about came back to Steve. Johnny was Steve's friend. Dallas was Steve's friend. My guilt over Sandy made me think of Soda...who was Steve's friend.

Round and round and round.

I went down to the bathroom when it turned three a.m., for something to do, just to stop me staring at the ceiling. Christ, Sarah kept stuff just so. She was a real 'place for everything' kind of girl. Everything. Possibly the answer to everything.

When I eventually dragged myself up and got ready for work, I felt like I was watching myself do it. Like the real Evie was somewhere else.

Marian looked at me seriously when I came in. Then she followed me into the store front, pulling the blind back down when I raised it.

"What're you doing?" I tried to redo the blind. She stood in front of it.

"Okay, Sweet Pea. I can't take another day of y'all pretending to be fine. You ain't been right for days. What gives? Huh?"

I bit my lip. "Nothin'."

Marian shrugged, folded her arms. "Okay, we don't open. Not until you tell me what's wrong."

"You can't do that!" I was shocked. "What about the customers?"

"If anybody comes by with a Monday morning floral emergency, I'm minded to tell 'em where to go. Don't think I won't."

It was hard to smile at her, but I knew that was what she wanted from me.

"Glory, Evie. What's wrong?"

When I'd finished telling her, Marian stared at me. I waited for her to tell me one of her tales. Something in her vast experience that would trump two boys dead on the same night and my best friend pregnant, not to her boyfriend, causing my boyfriend to dump me, before he fought in a rumble against the friends of another boy killed the previous week.

But of course she didn't. Couldn't. Who the hell could?

I sniffed, my lip wobbling.

"You just made me rich," Marian said, unexpectedly. "My first husband bet me a million dollars nothin' on earth could shut me up." She stared at me for another second, then she threw her arms around me. "Jeez, Evie. _Jeez_."

Floral emergencies in Tulsa went unaided for another hour as she poured coffee and advice into me. The coffee helped my headache some. But no advice in the world was going to ease the pain in my heart.

xXx

Getting off the bus early was becoming a habit with me, I realized. But when I told Sarah that Sylvia had no place else to go, other than to me, I'd been telling the truth for myself as well. Who else did I have to talk to, who would know what I was going through?

By Wednesday, if Sarah asked me one more time how I was feeling, I would likely strangle her.

Sylvia didn't have to ask. And looking at her, washed out and hollow eyed, neither did I.

She also had advice, although hers didn't come with coffee. I smoked a joint with her, as she told me exactly how I was going to get Steve back. Apparently her big brother was being very generous with his stash. He wasn't there, so I didn't know if he _knew_ he was being generous, or if she'd helped herself. So what? I didn't care either way.

Sylvia's advice was the total opposite of Marian, who'd been of the 'if he don't appreciate you, you're better off without him' school of thought. I guess that much was obvious about her, given the husbands she'd left in her wake. Sylvia, on the other hand, could care less about appreciation, either way. She believed that I should damn well get what I wanted, whoever or whatever that was. And if I didn't want him, I should rub his nose in it all the more.

She was lost without the goal of reclaiming Dallas. So she turned her machinations over to me. Like she needed something of the kind to focus on. I'd always wondered what motivated their relationship, whether the game playing was the real attraction. It felt a little cynical, but I wondered if she was mourning _that_ more than actually mourning him.

When I left Sylvia's house, I was just loose enough to do something I'd otherwise never have had the guts to attempt, but which had been in my mind for days.

xXx

I'd never been there, but I knew the address. I wasn't in school anymore, so I didn't have notebooks scrawled with our initials inside of a heart and that kind of shit, but when we'd started seeing each other, I'd acted like a kid and memorized all the facts I knew about him.

I cut around via King Street, because I didn't want to go near Soda's house. I wasn't ready for that conversation.

I knew it was a stupid move to go there at all. Even without Marian telling me to be my 'own woman' and Sylvia insisting that I should play it cool and play around, I knew that it wouldn't work. I knew it made me look desperate. But I _was _desperate, and I couldn't stop myself walking over there.

The Chevy wasn't on the road outside. But that didn't mean anything for sure. He left it at the DX sometimes. Or Soda might have borrowed it. Or...

Hard as it was to walk up to the door, it was harder to turn around without trying. I knocked.

I swallowed hard as the man opened the door. Maybe I wasn't as mellow as I'd thought.

He wasn't as old as I might have guessed. But I knew it was the right house. Not because he looked _much_ like him. His hair was lighter and his eyes were too, but something about the way he held himself, or maybe the way he moved, made the resemblance obvious. I definitely saw it in the way he narrowed his eyes and regarded me.

"What'd ya want?"

"Is Steve here?" My mouth felt sticky, it went dry as I spoke.

His smirked, his lip twisting in a half smile that it hurt to recognize. "He expectin' ya?"

"No. Is he here, or not?"

He acknowledged my insolence with a raised eyebrow. "Not." He began to shut the door, but I put my hand out, pushing on it.

"Do you know where he is?"

"No. And I'm guessing if he wanted you to know, he'd have told ya. So you might wanna take a hint, darlin'."

"Is he coming back tonight?" I left the accusation implicit in my eyes. Let him know that I was aware he threw Steve out on a regular basis.

He barked a laugh, surprising me. "You pack a lot of firepower in a small package. You Evie?"

I nodded, warily. I'd had no clue from the few times Steve had mentioned his old man that they were on conversational terms, least of all about me. He looked me over a little more closely than I was comfortable with, pulled a face that might have indicated approval and chuckled again.

"Then you definitely need to take a hint, darlin'. He ain't one for changin' his mind. Y'all run along, now."

He shut the door in my face.

I walked the long way round again to get home. Walked off the mellow, started thinking.

xXx

Waiting wasn't working. Hoping he would realize what we'd had and come back. Fuck that. I was going out of my mind. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. The strain of going to work and trying to put up a show of normalcy for Sarah was driving me crazy. I was never very patient to begin with.

I needed to _do_ something.

High school tactics weren't going to help. The tried and tested method would be to get my friend to talk to his friend. Except for the fact that my friend had royally fucked over his friend and that was the whole goddamn problem.

I was running out of options.

I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror.

Maybe Sylvia was right.

I'd never gotten ready to go out, knowing I'd be out on my own. If Sandy and I hadn't had dates, we still got ready together and we went out together. Tonight it was just me. Sylvia wasn't up to appearing in public yet and I couldn't wait. Not and stay sane.

My hand wasn't very steady. I knocked over some of Ma's pill bottles when I dropped my mascara. Everything in its place.

I was thinking, maybe Sylvia _was_ right. Whatever I thought about her motives. Whatever I thought about her actual relationships. She _did_ get the guy she wanted when she wanted him. Something she did worked.

Steve was a guy, like any guy. He didn't like it when other boys looked at me, I remembered that. He _really_ didn't like it when he found out I'd been in the car with Dallas. And then there was Ricky. How he'd reacted when Ricky grabbed me. Or even when he thought I was checking out Tim swimming. I went over and over all the moments we'd had, everything that might tell me if this was going to work.

Because, hell yeah, I wanted to believe that Sylvia was right.

I put the pill bottles back real tidy, how Sarah liked them. Looked at myself in the mirror again and smiled.

I nearly lost my nerve when I saw how busy it was. It was just the location that made it popular, the food was always lousy at The Dingo. But I'd talked to myself in my head, the whole way there, and it seemed to work because I was doing it, I was walking calmly up to the counter.

I watched myself order a Coke. I had to have some kind of excuse for being there. I watched as I wandered outside and lounged against the wall, pretending to sip the drink I didn't want. I felt like a robot version of me, programmed by Sylvia, performing the task I had to do. Or a pod person, Dana Wynter in 'Invasion of the Bodysnatchers'. That would be good, to be a pod person. When I fell asleep these days, I woke up with too many emotions. This was better, this detaching myself.

Like flies drawn to honey, they started circling. It would have been flattering if I didn't know they were all just out for what they could get. The ones who knew me assumed I was on the make, looking for a soft landing for my rebound. The ones who didn't know me could care less, they knew I was there, on my own, and therefore available.

I got some dirty looks from a couple of girls, but as I watched myself give them the finger they seemed unimportant. Everything seemed unimportant, apart from getting Steve back.

If I turned around and smiled at one of the guys who checked me out, would that do it?

If I walked right up to a random car and flirted with a random guy?

If I got in a random car?

I shivered, walking slowly around the edge of the lot, making it seem like I was looking for someone.

"Darlin', you all on your lonesome?"

He stood right in front of me, some greasy guy I didn't know, his eyes burning down my thin, too tight, too low top. Sylvia's suggestion, it didn't suit me.

I smiled, watched myself pretend like I was interested. Sylvia's advice. Tonight, that suited me fine.

But he was loud and rude and in the end, I didn't like him. He objected to me trying to walk away, grabbed my arm.

"Hey! You okay, there, Tinkerbelle?"

I practically fell into Two-Bit's arms, I was so glad to see him. The other guy was no match for Two-Bit's glare. I winced inside at the name he called me as he walked away, but it was probably fair. I'd gone there with the sole intent of teasing someone. And, he _was_ a prick. I giggled a little to myself.

"What are you doin' here, Tink?" Two-Bit looked confused. He'd settled on the Tinkerbelle thing a while back, given up on finding new and amusing ways to remind me I was tiny, compared to him. I shrugged, gave him the line about being thirsty. I had the Coke to prove it, didn't I? He put his arm around my shoulders in a friendly gesture and whistled. "Jeez, you're like ice. Want a ride home?"

I did. I wanted to go home. But I also knew that what was waiting for me at home was another tear stained night and another morning of waking up to no Steve.

As we climbed into the Plymouth, I realised I still needed to try. In fact, perhaps it was more likely to work, because how would Steve find out about a stranger? And it wouldn't be so bad, Two-Bit was kind, I knew him.

"Two-Bit, you hurt bad?" He had stitches in his cheek, bruises still framing them. He waved my concern aside.

"How about everyone else?" I had to know. I had to.

Two-Bit gave me a small smile. "Aw, y'know. A few knocks. Nothin' major. The kid was pretty sick." He looked at me, worried. "Are you okay? You seem a little..."

"The kid? D'you mean Ponyboy?" I was slow at processing what he said.

He looked at me more closely before he answered, I didn't know why. "Got a concussion, pretty bad. He was in the hospital. He's home now, but restin' up." I noticed he'd still avoided telling me directly about Steve.

"Two-Bit? I ain't really okay. Could we go somewhere and talk? Please?" He seemed surprised when I suggested the lake, but he drove there without arguing.

When I asked him for a smoke, I said I didn't want a whole one and shared his. Watched myself share his beer, too.

I slid along the seat, right up next to him. Made out I was cold. He was surprised, but he put his arm around me. Just a guy. Just another guy. I could do this. For Steve.

"That was real tough, the way you got rid of that meathead. You've always been real nice to me, Two-Bit. I dig that." I watched as I played with the collar on his leather jacket, pressing against him, leaving no doubt what I was intending.

"I dunno, Evie, you only just broke up with Steve." He hesitated. He was his friend, after all. But his arms were already around me. He was a good guy, but just a guy. I focused on the memory of Sylvia's voice. _'They're all the same.'_

"So? That's his loss. I always liked you, Two-Bit, don'tcha know that?" The lie burned my throat and his lips burned mine as I kissed him. Wrong. _Wrong, wrong, wrong._

He pulled back. I saw his confusion in his eyes. Everything I was feeling, everything I wanted came crashing down. I scooted back across the bench seat, curling up, unable to stop the tears. Where was the fucking robot pod person when I needed her?

He tried to talk to me. I got back in control a bit, wiped my eyes. I said sorry. He shrugged, but he had to be thinking all kinds of bad things about me. I felt like I owed him an explanation."I do like ya, really I do. But I still wanna be with Steve."

"What was this for, then?" _Oh, God, what indeed?_

"Sylvia said, to make him jealous, to make him realise he'd made a mistake..."

"Sylvia's a no good little...broad..." Two-Bit snapped. "You don't wanna be listenin' to her!"

I tried to explain that it had worked for her. _So well_.

He looked skeptical. "You ain't Sylvia an' Steve ain't Dally. You know Randle, he blows up all the time, he might come round yet." He was so obviously trying to be kind. And I'd just tried to use him in the skankiest way. I felt awful, but he didn't understand how bad this was, how bad I wanted Steve back.

"He ain't never been like that with me before, not _that_ angry." That was the worst of it. Steve wasn't ever like that with me. Before. Until he looked like he hated me. _Oh, God._

"Because of Sandy?"

I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eye.

"That was a shitty thing for her to do to Soda," he said quietly.

It was. It really was. But why was I paying for it? Why was I the one who was hurting this bad? I told Two-Bit I'd only covered for Sandy a couple of times.

"Guess that was all it took."

"Sylvia said, those college boys were always careful, Sylvia..."

"Glory! Sylvia wants to shut her fuckin' trap, if you ask me! I'm takin' you home, Evie." He was angry, with her, with me as well, I guess. And he was right to be.

He didn't say a word to me all the way home. I was too ashamed of myself to speak. What the fuck had I done? Why had I ever thought this would work? My head was thumping like it was going to explode. I preferred being a pod person. Feelings hurt too much.

I tried to tell Two-Bit that I wasn't involved with what Sandy had done. But whether he would believe that, after tonight, I had no clue. I begged him not to tell Steve, realizing too late, that it was not going to work.

"No, I won't tell him." His voice was strained. I nodded.

"Thank you."

I went inside.

* * *

**Deja vu for those of you who read 'Sylvia Said', my one-shot of the last scene from Two-Bit's POV. Like my Steve one-shots, this is where Evie first jumped into my head, so I thought you ought to see it from her side, too.**

**I do not own The Outsiders or Invasion of the Bodysnatchers. And if you don't know it, and you wonder what Evie is thinking, you can identify a pod person because they have no emotions. How Evie got into that state, is up to you to work out, for the moment...**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone who's reading, plus a quick shout out to Scilly, who has been waiting for someone to reappear...Voilà!**

* * *

I saw them from the street as I approached the church. I ducked around and through the side gate, wanting to avoid any confrontation. Wanting to avoid the crushing embarrassment that would come from facing any one of them.

_Sodapop._ I could try to tell myself that was mostly down to Sandy, but even so, I had no idea what I'd say to him. _Two-Bit_? That was all me. I'd woken up with the hangover from hell the next morning, but my memory wasn't hazy enough to let me forget that I'd made a play for him, for the worst reason. And that worst reason was right there with them, hair carefully greased, large as life and twice as handsome. Steve had his back to me as I ducked towards the church porch.

They were having a confrontation without any help from me, anyway.

A small, wiry woman was yelling at Two-Bit and Steve, who were both glaring back stubbornly. Soda hung behind them, looking like he hadn't slept in days. A thin man was holding out his hands between them all, his body language urging restraint.

I slipped behind the small group of people who were clustered by the door, pretending that they weren't watching the showdown. Looking at them in their church clothes, I felt self conscious. I hadn't known what to wear. My longest skirt wasn't black and my black skirt didn't exactly scream 'respectable'. I'd compromised on a navy dress and matching dark pantyhose, to disguise the length a bit.

There were only a handful of folks inside, all occupying the first few rows. I walked down to the front, but only to place the flowers I'd brought next to some others. They looked small compared to the other wreaths, but I'd chosen and tied them myself. I vaguely saw a card saying 'From the grateful students of...' on a showy arrangement, but, aware of the gaze of some people seated nearby, I scurried away before I read it all. I headed for the seats furthest back. A fat guy blocked the way. He gave me a sad smile.

"Are you one of Johnny's friends?"

I nodded. I didn't know who the hell he was. I just wanted to sit down, out of the way.

"Such a brave kid," he murmured. "Never seen the like." He looked towards the door. "Is Ponyboy coming?" He pronounced the name like a foreign word he needed to get just right.

I told him I'd heard that Ponyboy was sick, so I didn't think he'd be there. I guessed that was why I'd seen Soda, but not Darry. The guy shook his head.

"He and Johnny, so brave. And...the other one, of course, although..." His face clouded over.

"_Dallas_. The 'other one'. His name was _Dallas_." I scowled at him and he backed away.

As I slid into the last row of chairs, the minister came in, practically carrying the small woman. She had to be Johnny's mom. He deposited her in the front row, next to a slumped old guy. She set to wailing like a banshee. I wanted to stand up and ask her if she ever cried over Johnny's bruises like that. I sat on my hands, to keep me in my seat.

Only two rows were filled, even once the rest of the people came in. The guys were last of all and they walked past me in silence. I presumed the minister had persuaded Mrs Cade to let them in.

I'd seen Two-Bit's stitches. Now I saw Steve was walking real careful, one arm across his middle. His face was still a little bruised, as was Soda's, and Soda's lip had the remains of a scab. Guess I had some more of my answers about the results of the rumble.

Two-Bit smiled at me, mouthed 'Hi, sweetie.' But Soda and Steve said nothing.

Soda, whose eyes were red rimmed, didn't honestly look like he knew where he was, or really notice me. But Steve just let his eyes slide past, like I was invisible.

I thought I already knew how bad I hurt, how much I missed him. I was wrong.

The guys went to sit towards the front. Other than them, it was a collection of older folks. A handful of people who may or may not have meant anything to Johnny. Relatives? I had no way of knowing. I didn't pay much attention and I don't think I even heard most of what the minister said.

Sarah hadn't argued with me, when I said I wanted to come today. Hell, she'd even offered to come with me. I didn't want that, but I was pleased she understood why I had to see for myself that this had really happened. I felt like the unreality of my life was spreading, and I needed to get a handle on what was real and what was just a horrible dream.

I couldn't take my eyes off the coffin, couldn't stop thinking about Johnny laughing with me, when we talked about screwing up radio stations for other people. He had such a great laugh, but I think that was about the only time I heard it so freely. I remembered him trying to make me feel better when Steve was arrested. He was sweet.

And now there was this box to look at.

I was surprised when people filed out. Like I said, I hadn't been paying attention. I hesitated, kept to my seat, even once the church was empty. I didn't want to run into them outside.

There was a window open behind me and I heard Steve's voice clearly, answering someone's question.

"Yes, _I saw her_. What the hell she's doing here, I dunno." Three guesses who Steve was talking about.

"Maybe you should ask her."

"Two-Bit, I ain't interested. She's a lyin' broad, like the rest of 'em."

"Man, I could pop you right here. You're wrong." Two-Bit wasn't letting him get away with it.

"What the fuck d'you know about it?" Steve snarled.

"I know she ain't to blame for what Sandy did - Sorry, Soda - Chrissakes, Steve, man." His voice dropped as he tried to talk more calmly. "Evie ain't doin' that good, if you ask me. I think you were too hard on her."

I heard Soda for the first time. "What'd ya mean, she ain't doing good?" He sounded concerned.

Two-Bit coughed. "I saw her. I saw her the other night at The Dingo." _Oh, no. No, he said he wouldn't tell. _"I reckon she was loaded an' not in a good way. For some reason, she's still hung up on you, Randle, although the why of it escapes me entirely."

"Mind your own fuckin' business!" It sounded like Steve was pissed. That'd be right. I was a little surprised he hadn't laid a punch on Two-Bit, church or no church.

"Two-Bit?" Soda asked quietly. "When you saw Evie...she say anything about Sandy?"

_Oh, shit_. I leaned my head in my hands, wanting everything to go away.

I heard another voice, a soft spoken man, start talking, but I couldn't make out what he said.

I waited until it was quiet, but obviously not long enough, because the guys were just a little way from the building when I walked out. The minister was explaining calmly that only Johnny's family were going to the next part, the burial.

"That stinks! _We _were his family," Two-Bit said fiercely. But it was no use. He turned away angrily as they were left behind.

His expression softened as he saw me. "You okay for a ride, Evie?"

"She ain't coming with us," Steve snapped before I could answer.

That about took my breath away, but I still had some pride, so I ignored him, although my heart was thumping so hard it hurt. I told Two-Bit I was fine and I started walking to prove it.

"What is she even doin' here?" Steve muttered before I was quite out of earshot. That I couldn't ignore. I turned back, fighting to keep my voice level. _Please don't let me cry in front of him._

"Screw you, Steve Randle! I came for Johnny, to say goodbye to Johnny."

Steve scowled mightily. "You better not be thinking about..." He stopped, looked at his arm, where Soda's hand now rested. Nobody could see the expression on Soda's face and not be moved, not even Steve. Maybe especially not Steve.

"Yeah, okay, buddy," he said quietly. He slung his arm over Soda's shoulders as they walked away.

I knew what he had been going to say. And for all I'd concentrated on Johnny inside the church, the next hurdle, the next awful, unreal thing that had to be faced was never far from my mind.

xXx

Incredibly, Sylvia wanted to go shopping for funeral clothes.

Almost as if this was one last date she was preparing for. I found it weird, but maybe this was normal. I'd realized as I approached the church for Johnny's funeral that I had very little experience of death.

I was so young when my dad died, that I had no memory of any funeral. If I was taken there, I definitely didn't remember. I only had the echo of a memory about him and maybe that was actually formed from things Sarah had told me. We'd never taken flowers to a grave for birthdays or anything. I wondered, suddenly, why not? I mean, I could see that - with Ma the way she was - we'd never gone to the distant family we had out of town for anything. Not Thanksgiving, or weddings, or funerals. But why didn't we visit my dad's grave? I'd never even been to the cemetery and now I was shopping for clothes for just that.

Marian let me off early, when she heard what it was for. Brazenly, Sylvia marched me into the hip boutique we'd admired from outside on occasion, with Sandy. I hissed at her to stop. I was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to lift anything in here, it was well staffed and the displays weren't crammed in on top of each other. She just grinned and selected items for us both to try.

There was nothing I liked. My mood didn't allow for new clothes. I was planning on wearing my black mini skirt. I figured Dallas wouldn't have minded, maybe he'd even have approved. Sylvia bought a dress and a sweater. Actually bought them. I gaped as she unrolled the cash and handed it over.

Outside, I asked her where the money came from.

"Buzz," she explained happily. "He's cool like that. 'You got, you spread it around.' That's how he rolls."

"And he's got it?"

"Yup. He's been playing the rush for a while now." She smiled at my confused expression. "He's on a winning streak." It still meant nothing to me. "_He gambles_. That's how he makes his money."_ Oh_. Maybe that explained the car. Sylvia carried on yakking.

"He works the circuit, followin' the big poker games around, like my daddy used to, before Mom stopped him. I sometimes think that's why he gets himself put in the slammer so often, so he still gets time away from home, just to spite her. Anyway, that's what Buzz does. The gambling, not the being arrested. Although he does some of that too." She smiled.

Buzz picked us up in the very car I'd been thinking about.

"Get yourself something pretty?" he asked Sylvia as he drove. She nodded happily and he smiled back indulgently. Then she pulled the sweater out of the bag and handed it back over the seat to me.

"I got this for you. It'll go real nice with your skirt."

I told her I couldn't accept it.

"Well, there ain't no way it's gonna fit me!" She wiggled her chest for emphasis. "Besides, Dally always says..." She caught herself. "_Said_. Dally always _said_..." Sylvia swallowed, losing the mask she was usually real good at holding. She looked out of the window, not finishing her sentence. Buzz and I exchanged a glance through the rear view.

I kept the sweater.

xXx

Sylvia was right, the sweater looked good with the skirt. It was colder and it threatened to rain, so I needed a warmer top anyway.

When I reached the house, even the dog was quiet. Maybe this was just a day when the world was going to fit the required mood. Buzz answered the door.

"Hey, Evie," he said, heavy on the E sounds. He'd started doing that, greeting me with 'Eevee' for some reason that only he knew, when I'd been at their house over the last couple of weeks. I smiled hello feebly. I wasn't looking forward to this.

"Listen," he told me quietly. "Sylv wasn't doin' so good this morning. Gave her something to take the edge off, y'know. But maybe we can both keep an eye on her?" I nodded. He paused, then asked, "You okay? 'Cause I got more..."

I smiled, both at him and to myself. Told him I was fine. And I was. Dana Wynter had nothing on me these days. Although I didn't think you could call it an invasion, if you invited the Body Snatchers in.

Sylvia came out as Buzz pulled on a leather jacket and began searching his pockets for his car key. Sylvia opened her hand slowly and handed it to him.

"You're comin' with me?" She asked him.

He nodded. "Said I would, honey, an' I am."

She turned her eyes to me, pupils wide, expression blank. "Buzz is gonna drive us."

I nodded. I'd kind of got that. Looked like Sylvia had her own pod person deal going on today.

xXx

No church service this time. I would never know if it was faith or show that had motivated the Cades. But it was never going to be appropriate this time around.

There were trees and grass and, without the lines of headstones, it could have been a park. It surprised me that we could drive inside. We pulled up in a corner, behind some other cars. A red T-bird stood garish in the line and I was aware of a few people standing around, a couple of older folks climbing out of a station wagon, shaking hands with a minister. This was it then.

At the end of a row of newish looking graves, there was a hole in the ground. _Oh, God._

Buzz, who had driven in silence, turned to me as Sylvia climbed out slowly.

"I'll wait here. Wasn't a fan of Winston myself. Y'all come back if it gets too much for her, huh?" I nodded. He eased back in his seat, twirling a quarter in and out of his fingers.

The setting jarred. Because there were boys everywhere. Leaning on cars, or standing with cigarettes in their hands, in amongst the trees. Some faces I knew, many I didn't. A few over by the grave. Boys in leather jackets, boys in denim, in twos and threes, looking for all the world as if they were hanging outside The Dingo, outside the pool hall. Anywhere they should be, but here.

As I walked with Sylvia to place the flowers she'd had me select for her, I saw the Chevy, saw them. Soda was sitting on the edge of the curb, head down, smoking, with Steve standing sentinel. Two-Bit came over to us. Sylvia didn't acknowledge him, her eyes were fixed on the grave.

Two-Bit paused as he went to speak. I guess even he couldn't tackle the despair on her face.

"Don't you let Steve near her," I said quietly. "Her big brother's right over there."

Two-Bit nodded, his expression grim. "Me and Stevie had a little chat. Don'tcha worry, Tink. He'll keep a lid on it today."

I smiled gratefully. "How's Ponyboy doing?"

"Gettin' better. Not up to this, though, Darry says." He saw me looking over at the others. "They got the court case to get through yet. Soda's tired is all."

The gravesite wasn't far from the road. I felt my breath catch as the hearse arrived. Sylvia started shaking. I put my arm around her. Two-Bit left us, returning to the others.

The older man I'd seen earlier, whose greying hair might once have been as bright as Dallas's, moved forward slowly as the coffin slid out. He laid his hand on it briefly and then looked around, panicky, as if he'd only just realized what was needed. The minister spoke to him quietly.

They needn't have worried.

Before the men from the funeral home could step forward, paid for men, impersonal men, there was movement from all sides.

Tim Shepard walked up decisively, flanked Two-Bit as he also arrived next to the coffin. Steve and Soda were right behind them. As they took their places, a lanky guy in cowboy boots joined them. Dallas's old man looked almost humbled, definitely grateful. And between them they carried Dallas over to us.

I tried not to look, to check, but I noticed a flicker of pain on Steve's face as they maneuvered the coffin. Ribs then, for sure, if he was still hurting.

From all around, the boys appeared, some coming close, some hanging back, but far outnumbering the three or four adults - who looked shocked and nervous in equal measure.

There were few fancy words. I guess nothing much would have made sense. I was concentrating on Sylvia, who jumped every time the minister said Dallas's name. At one point, I think she looked around for him.

Her hand tightened suddenly on my arm. "I don't want to be here," she whispered, her breath coming in gasps. I turned her and walked her towards the cars. Buzz was there before we'd gone more than a few steps and he half carried her the rest of the way.

Something held me back from joining them. I told him to go without me. I felt like it wasn't finished somehow, although I couldn't go all the way back. I stood by the cars. Watched as fierce, angry boys all shrank a little, shoulders hunching in lieu of tears, fists in pockets proof against sobs. And on every face, the thought being processed was, _'this could have been me'_.

As I glanced away, saw the red bodywork, I had a sudden, vivid memory of Dallas behind the wheel of the Thunderbird, demonstrating something I still didn't understand about horse racing. So alive. Of all the things I could ever have said to describe Dallas and the way he was, _alive_ was the one that fitted the best. I walked, not paying attention to what direction I went.

The trees separated different sections of the cemetery. For what reason I didn't know. Rich and poor? Soc and greaser? Good people and bad people? What about the people who were a mixture of things?

I was crying now and I fumbled in my purse, dropping a pack of smokes. That seemed to make me cry harder for some absurd reason. As I bent to pick them up, a hand closed on them at the same time as mine.

Tim and I stood up.

"Hell of a day." His dark eyes rested on me as he lit two of my weeds and handed me one. My hand shook as I took it. He had the remains of what must have been a colossal black eye, if it was left over from the rumble. Something else was a little different too, but before I worked out what, he turned aside to blow his smoke away from me.

Between the trees I could see everyone moving away from the graveside, Two-Bit's head turning as he looked around. I scrubbed under my eyes, wiping away the tears.

"You goin' to Buck's?"

I shook my head, embarrassed. "I'm not with...Me an' Steve ain't..." I could see them walking across the grass.

Tim took a long, eloquent drag. "Fuck him. It's a party for Dally, ain't it?"

Before I could reply, the three of them were in front of us. Two-Bit elbowed Steve none too discreetly and Steve blurted, "Sorry 'bout the other day."

It would have been funny any other time. Steve Randle actually apologising for something. He looked like he had more to say, but he swallowed and all that he came up with was: "You need a ride?"

And it could have been like any other time he'd driven me home. I wanted that.

Except.

I glanced at Soda, barely holding his shit together. At Two-Bit, whose eyes looked like they might not sparkle with laughter for a long time. Finally, I looked at Steve. His eyes were red too. He was bruised, defeated, they all were.

But I could still see, in my mind, the expression he'd had that day in the alley. When it had seemed like he'd hated me. I still saw that, superimposed on the sad, blank face he presented now.

"Nah." I watched myself as I took a step closer to Tim. "I have a ride."

* * *

**Uh oh. Good decision for Evie?**

**Funerals - What do we think? I wanted to try them. And I wanted them different. Let me know what you think :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Biting my nails while I wait for your reactions to this one...**

* * *

Tim's vehicle of choice that day was a newish Dodge Dart and I knew damn well it wasn't his. But I climbed in anyway. And I definitely didn't think about what Sarah would have to say.

As we drove out of the cemetery, Tim flipped the rear-view towards me and tapped it, without a word.

_Shit._

_ "_You coulda told me I looked like a friggin' panda." I dug around in my purse for a Kleenex and my compact.

"What d'ya think I just did?" He saw me with my little mirror and readjusted the rear-view. From this side, I couldn't see his scar at all.

I did what I could. I wasn't about to attempt completely redoing my eyeliner in a moving car. When I looked around after the repair job, I realized where we were heading.

"I said I wasn't goin' to Buck's," I protested.

"No, you didn't. You _implied_ you didn't feel invited because you weren't with Randle. That's bullshit. You showed for Dally, you can have a drink for him too."

"I came with Sylvia." It was an excuse. I would have gone anyway, same as for Johnny. Although, truthfully, I'd liked him better than Dallas.

Tim grunted. "You're gonna get a rep, you hang out with her."

"Be nice. She's real cut up about Dallas." I heard myself defend Sylvia and shook my head. I wanted a drink, now that he'd mentioned it again. "Besides, what kind of rep will I get, hanging out with _you_?"

He flashed me the good kind of smile, glancing sideways. "Guess that depends, sweetheart."

"On what?"

"What kind of hanging out we do."

I felt flustered. I hadn't meant anything other than the fact that I was in his car, going to Buck's, and he had a rep himself a mile long and twice as wide.

Of course, now that I stopped to consider, that meant, _Christ almighty_, that I was in a _stolen_ car, going to Buck's, with Tim Shepard. Possibly not the wisest move I'd ever made.

We drove in silence for a while and then he asked, "How come you ditched Randle? I mean, apart from the obvious?"

"What? No, I didn't, I mean..._What d'ya mean 'apart from the obvious?" _His choice of subject rattled me.

"He's kind of a jerk."

"He ain't!"

Tim just shrugged slightly, like it was a matter of opinion.

I folded my arms, scowled at him. "It's complicated."

"Oh." He nodded, patronizingly. We were following the red T-bird now as it cut across to the small road that led past Buck's, other cars in a line behind us. "See, I heard it was something to do with that blonde broad getting knocked up. Which don't make much sense, seeing as how it ain't you did the knocking up."

How did he hear that about Sandy? About me? Why was he even interested?

I scowled again. "Christ, ain't people got nothin' better to talk about, in this neighborhood?"

"You'd think, huh?"

Just ahead, Buck squealed the Thunderbird sideways into the parking lot.

"See where Dally got the idea it was okay to drive like that?" Tim shook his head, pulling over in a more measured fashion. He leaned his head back, tilting it to look at me, thoughtfully. _Oh, his nose was different, I saw it now._

"So. You didn't ditch the grease monkey? He ditched you?"

I bit my lip, looked down at my lap.

"I rest my case." Tim said, opening his door and climbing out. "The guy's a jerk." He stuck his head back in the car. "C'mon, sweetheart, I promised you a drink an' a drink you shall have."

There were already more people in the bar than there had been at the cemetery. Girls too.

"Anything for a party," I muttered.

"Maybe." Tim found us a table in the corner. Or perhaps it had been left free for him. "But a whole lotta people knew Dally. Not everyone digs the..." He stopped, winced. I raised my eyebrows at him and he nodded. "Yeah, I heard myself about to say it." He tried again. "Not everyone _likes_ the grave thing." He shook his head at himself.

"It's okay," I said. "I think Dallas would've thought that was funny."

Tim looked a little surprised, but then he smirked. "I think so too." He fetched us drinks and sat next to me. "To Dally," he said, raising his glass. Copying him, I heard similar from around the room, Dallas's name echoing around the bar as people drank.

I took a long swig of my drink, found it heavy on the vodka, lighter on the Coke.

"Thank you, but I would've been okay with a beer."

He shook his head, replying without looking at me, his eyes checking out the room as it filled up. "Nah, I don't like girls drinkin' beer."

Guess that explained why he didn't take my order before he went to the bar. I pondered this idiosyncrasy while he continued surveying the bar.

"Are you looking for someone? 'Cause I can sit somewhere else." I didn't mean it to sound quite so snippy. I regretted it instantly, as his head turned to me real slow, disbelief briefly crossing his features.

For a couple of long, long seconds Tim Shepard's eyes burned into me.

"Well, then. Here it is," he said cryptically.

"What?" I squeaked, reminding myself of Sandy.

"_My undivided attention_. What you gonna do with it?"

Somewhere in my mind a little voice shouted, 'Shut up, Evie. Shut the fuck up, now!' But was happened was, I opened my mouth and said, "Your nose is different."

Tim was completely silent for a second. Then he started to laugh. And he laughed so hard and so long, people started looking at us, making me uncomfortable. Eventually he wound down, caught his breath, grinned at me.

"_You are_..." I think he said _'so fine'_, but I wasn't a hundred per cent certain because at that very moment he said it, he leaned forward to kiss me.

And at that very moment, Two-Bit, Soda and Steve walked through the door.

I shoved backwards, moving my chair away, momentarily unbalancing Tim, but he recovered quickly enough. He smiled wryly and followed my line of sight.

"An' you called _me_ out for watchin' who's in here?" he said, leaning back in his chair, to fish a pack of weeds out of his pocket.

I swallowed nervously. I knew they'd gone to the bar, but I was now trying real hard not to look over there. They had to have seen me, although they'd looked fairly lit, wobbling on their feet already, must have been drinking in the car.

Tim shook out his match, dropping it in the ashtray on the table, blowing the first drag sideways as he regarded me.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Was it worth it? You arrangin' that little disappearing act we put together?"

I bit my lip. "I don't think I did more'n put the idea in your head. I think Adam Murphy would've done something to Ricky, with or without you. And definitely without me."

"Oh, you think that, do you?" He wasn't really smiling any more. "I guess it don't need to be a big secret no more, then? If you an' the grease monkey ain't steaming up the windows these days."

_Oh, shit. Yes, it did. It needed to stay a secret forever, as far as I was concerned._ But I had a nasty feeling that if I made a big deal of it, it would become all the more appealing for Tim to spill about my involvement. I tried to think calmly, despite my heart thudding and distracting me.

_He didn't actually kiss me. And so I didn't actually turn him down. I didn't humiliate Tim Shepard in front of a crowd of people at Buck's. _Did I?

"S'up, sweetheart? You still pining for your grease monkey's paws?"

"Can you stop calling him that?" I said quietly.

"Whatever." Tim drank deeply.

A couple of younger guys came up to him, including the skinny one I'd met at the warehouse.

"Where y'all been, boys?" Tim chuckled.

"You left us at the fuckin' cemetery!"

"What can I tell ya? Thought I had a better offer..." I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't look up from my drink.

The party rolled on, almost like any other. Except there was only one topic of conversation around the room.

"Remember that time he left that broad in her underwear, in the car?" Someone on a nearby table was recounting another Dallas story. Someone else joined in.

"She thought he was comin' right back. Waited hours!" Yelps from those that knew the story and hollers from those that didn't. My head was pounding.

"What about the time he rolled that guy, turned out to be the truancy officer..." A third voice took up, one that sounded real familiar. But plenty of people, other than Two-Bit knew this one, I was sure. I didn't look around. I was finding it hard to breathe steady.

"An' all he had in his wallet was nudie pictures..." Raucous laughter all around.

"An' Dally made a deal with him..."

"I thought he got kicked outta school for that?" A new voice queried.

"He never got kicked out for nothin', he _walked_."

Mercifully, there was no one in the restroom when I escaped there. The water in the faucet was metallic tasting, like blood. I never understood those people who can swallow things dry. My hand was shaking and I had to smoke a weed right down to the butt, before I could reapply my eyeliner to my satisfaction. I looked at the face I painted on. Which me was it? Because I'd seen more than one version today.

I wanted Steve back. When I was alone, he was all I thought about, all I wanted. But when he was in front of me, like at the cemetery, I couldn't make myself break past that wall I'd put up against the hurt he'd caused. Why? It was like some instinct made me shy away, even as I still needed him.

Why didn't I take a ride with him? Why did I get in the car with Tim? For a split second I saw Sylvia, not me, in the mirror. I shook my head. I was not her and I wasn't doing that. Christ, if I couldn't even cosy up to Two-Bit without falling apart, how the hell would I cope with leading on Shepard?

My newly painted face stared back at me.

I could still hear all the voices, telling every story they ever knew, as I came back from the bathroom. Shouting, talking across each other, hooting with laughter. Some I'm pretty sure were made up, but whether by Dallas in the first place or the tale teller now, I'd never know. I needed to go home. I never should have come.

He was waiting by the bottom of the stairs. Must have seen me leave the bar and followed me. He stood up as I came around the corner. I wanted to turn around, or push past him, or even take on the power of fucking invisibility, as he looked at me, waiting for me to speak. I didn't.

"Hello, Evie." His voice sounded hoarse. He raised his bottle of beer and swallowed, like he heard it for himself, wanted to clear his throat.

"Hey, Soda." He looked like shit, as far as he ever could. Like he hadn't slept or shaved in a long time.

"Have you heard from her?" _Oh, Christ. _

"Soda..."

"Please, Evie, just tell me what happened."

I could have told him everything I knew. Everything I believed. That she was cruel and heartless and I hated her for destroying what we all had. That she was sad and lonely and hated herself more than any of us ever could. That I missed her.

But I looked at him, beautiful and broken, and I couldn't do it. Not today.

"I'm sorry, Soda. I don't know what to tell you."

He crumpled a little further, turned away._ Aw, shit._

"Wait." I dug in my purse. This was why I'd written it out after all. Who the hell else was I going to give it to? "This is her address. I don't know if she... Look, Soda." I bit my lip. "I'm just...sorry."

"Yeah." He shoved the piece of paper in his pocket. "Hey, whatever the hell it was all about...I never asked Steve to, y'know. I never asked him to do that."

Christ, I hadn't for one moment though that he did. Steve made his own decisions, that I was sure about. I nodded. I really liked Soda. I would have liked to explain properly. But I had a feeling we might never have a conversation in whole sentences again. There was too much that it hurt to talk about.

He went back through to the bar and I headed for the back exit, out into the alley, prepared to walk home. Should have gone for the main door. _Goddamnit_. Every choice I made, completely screwed me over.

Steve looked up, pushed himself unsteadily off the wall he'd been slumped against, and threw his cigarette aside.

I was quite proud of myself for not reacting, for continuing to walk in a straight line past him, for not letting him see the tears that sprang into my eyes.

"Evie."

_Oh_. I stood there, but I didn't turn around. "What?"

He came up behind me, put his hand on the back of my neck. _Oh, God._ I could smell the whiskey on his breath, even before he took a step closer and bent his head to rest against mine.

"Evie?" he whispered it, like a question this time. His breathing was ragged but I still wasn't sure until I moved, until I twisted around and he grabbed onto me, burying his head in my neck. Then I felt him shake as his tears fell, hot on my skin.

I held onto him as he cried, huge sobs, with shuddering breaths in between. Words he didn't even seem to know he was saying spilled out of him in a rush. About Johnny and how unfair it was. About Dallas. Dallas being shot mostly, but stuff about us too. About us breaking up and how it wasn't what he really wanted. I held my breath.

Against my better judgement, I was getting my heart's desire.

"It don't matter, don't none of it matter..." Steve kissed me messily and hard, pushing me off balance so that we hit the wall behind. He crushed into me, his face wet with tears, his mouth moving over mine hungrily, his hands none too gentle. "What the fuck's the point of worryin'? 'Bout anything? We could all be dead under a street lamp tomorrow." I didn't know where the street lamp came into it, but it seemed important to him.

There was a part of me so, so happy to have him want me again, to have him talk about needing me, to have him touch me and to touch him back. He was horribly drunk but he was mine again.

Except.

As he bit at my neck and shoved his hand up my sweater, there was another part of me hearing the other things he said, things like, "I don't care if you're the same as Sandy. I forgive you."

My eyes snapped open and I shoved him, hard. He stumbled back, grunting in pain and I remembered he was still hurting from the rumble. I remembered, but in that second, I didn't care. I slapped him across the face, as hard as I could. He reeled another step back, the shock on his face almost comical.

"_You forgive me?"_ I hissed. "You arrogant, self-centred prick."

Steve stared at me blearily.

I was quivering with anger. "I _never_ cheated on you. Never." _I love you, you bastard_. My heart felt like it had been dipped in acid.

And, God help me, even though I knew he was drunk, and in pain, and coping with the agony of watching a friend gunned down in front of him, even though I knew all of that, I wanted to hurt him like he'd hurt me.

I leaned a little closer and I snarled at him, very clearly, "But if that's what you think of me..._Watch me now, Steve._ Watch me go and fuck Tim Shepard senseless." I stepped out of his range as he tried to grab my arm and I darted back up to the door.

As I pulled it open, I heard the unmistakable sound of puking and I glanced back, to see him leaning on the wall with one arm, hurling his guts over the alleyway.

But I went back inside.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: The last chapter was a little shocking, apparently? So, I appreciate even more if you are still reading. Thank you. And I thought I'd update early, to end the suspense. **

** One last warning, i****f you are offended by cussing, this is probably not the fic for you...**

* * *

I got hold of myself enough to walk fairly calmly through the back corridor and into the bar. I made straight for the front door.

Never had any intention of doing anything else, of course. When the words spilled out of me, I just wanted to hurt him, to make Steve know what I was feeling.

Tim Shepard scared me. He was who he was. That was why I'd gone to him for help with Ricky in the first place. The very idea of getting up close and personal with him freaked me out. He had to know that, by the way I'd reacted to him trying to kiss me.

And he wasn't Steve.

It was only as I stalked up the road and my rage started to subside, that the full extent of my idiocy came to me. What had I just done? At the very least I should have talked to someone in the bar, preferably Soda. Someone who would vouch for the fact that I'd left. By myself.

If, by some horrible coincidence, Tim wasn't in the bar when Steve made it back there..._Oh, Christ, was he still in the bar?_ I hadn't even looked. If it took Steve any time at all to stop puking, he could still think I'd been upstairs with Tim. And Tim would have no motivation to set him straight.

I'd probably just started a feud between them. _Shit._

I was at the intersection now. I hesitated. Should I go back? I took a step in one direction and then another back the other way. I literally couldn't decide which way to go. My mind was slowing up, just when I needed it to help me. Where was this pod person when I was in the alley with Steve? When being calm might have helped. _Shit._

A couple of cars drove past in both directions. Still I hesitated. A dark red Bel Air glided to a stop, the driver leaning across to call to me.

"Evie? What're ya doing out here?" It was Sylvia's brother, Buzz.

I burst into tears. I was sick of finding myself crying, but I couldn't seem to stop.

He reached across and opened the passenger door. "Get in. I'll take you home."

I did so, but I tried to explain I needed to go back to Buck's.

"You sure about that? What happened?"

"I did something stupid."

"_Chick _stupid? Like wore the wrong color lipstick? Or _criminal_ stupid? Like robbed a bank? 'Cause I'm on probation, y'know. I can't be seen with you in this vehicle, if you're wearin' last season's red instead of this season's pink."

He winked at me as I processed the absurdity of this statement. I couldn't let him distract me from wallowing though. I deserved to be unhappy. I shook my head, sniffing.

"_Mindless, moron, 'retard with a head injury'_ stupid." I clarified for him.

"And this means you have to go back to Buck's because..."

"I need to tell my boyfriend I didn't mean it about fucking Tim Shepard." _Oh, groovy. Still no filter system in place. Shut up, Evie._

"Whoa, whoa. Hold up a second. You banged Tim Shepard?"

"No! I just said I was goin' to..."

Buzz fished around in all his pockets, finally coming up with nothing.

"What are you lookin' for?" I sniffed.

"A handkerchief. I was gonna suggest you blow your nose, so I can understand what the hell you're snivellin' about. Let me get it straight. You told your boyfriend you were gonna fuck Tim Shepard?"

I nodded, wiping my nose on the back of my hand.

"_Why?_ Do you even know Tim Shepard?"

I nodded again. "Why would I say I was gonna..._do it_, with someone I didn't know?"

"Seriously? That's the part that needs to make the most sense to you? Why would say you were gonna..." He stopped, gave a little smile. "I'm sorry, what're we saying now? '_Do it'_?" Buzz waited for confirmation, like this was important, despite his flippant tone. I nodded.

"Okay. Why would you tell your boyfriend you were gonna '_do it'_ with someone you don't know, when you could pick Tim Shepard?" He peered at me closely. "Are you loaded?"

"No." I scowled at him. I have several bad habits. I forget when lying became one of them.

"Are you on some kind of recreational substance I don't know about, that makes chicks desperate to f...to '_do it'_ with Tim Shepard?"

I put my head in my hands, groaning. "Shut the fuck up about Tim fuckin' Shepard."

"Aha! You _can_ say the word, just not in a 'doing it with Shepard' context."

"It's not funny." I smiled anyway, through my tears. He was freaky, but I was watching myself become amused by him.

He smiled at me, sideways, trying to see me as I kept my head down. "So, it's the 'boyfriend' part of the sentence that I should be payin' attention to?"

I mumbled, but he didn't hear me, so I repeated myself. "_Ex_. Ex-boyfriend."

"Ohhhh." He strung the syllable out, like he'd achieved some great clarity. "Now I see your deal. Sounds like you've been reading from my darlin' sister's playbook. And poor, innocent Tim Shepard...excuse me, I forgot his full title. Poor, innocent Tim _fuckin_' Shepard was just gonna be a pawn in your wicked game. An' you seemed like such a nice girl." His eyes twinkled dangerously.

"I ain't." I sighed dramatically. "I ain't nice at all."

Buzz reached out and lifted my chin, to make me look at him. "I think - an' I'm the driver, so I get the final vote, by the way - _ I _think you're nicer than _you_ think and definitely too nice to go back in there tonight and grovel to some asshole who made you cry." He looked over his shoulder and pulled out onto the road. "So, I'mma take you home. And as far from Tim fuckin' Shepard as we can get." He muttered the last part. I wasn't sure if he meant me to hear or not.

After we'd driven for a few minutes, I had more of a hold on myself. I figured the stress of the whole day had gotten to me earlier because I felt lighter now. Of course, I had help. I welcomed back the Body Snatchers.

"How's Sylvia doing?" I asked him.

"See?" He made me jump with his loud assertion. "You _are_ a nice person. Sylv ain't got that many friends worried about her, y'know."

_Well, that made me feel guilty_. Did I count as her friend? I figured I'd better clear that up, before he got the totally wrong idea.

"Uh. I ain't sure we're friends."

"You looked after her when Winston got his stupidass self shot, didn'tcha? I told you then, that was cool of you." _Huh? _He looked at my puzzled expression. "Oh, didn't I? I thought it. That's almost the same thing, right?"

"_Is_ she okay?" I decided to redirect my question, away from his weirdness.

"Will be. I guess."

He pulled up outside my house. "How 'bout you, Evie? You okay?" He was scrutinising me again.

"Will be, I guess." I parroted back his answer and got out of the car.

Feeling like I'd just lied through my teeth to Buzz, when I said I'd be okay, I pushed open the front door, to be met by Sarah immediately sticking her head out from the kitchen.

"Evie, you okay? I thought you'd be back hours ago." She got a sappy, overly sympathetic look on her face as she looked me over.

I glanced in the wall mirror. Yup. I looked like I'd been crying all right. Well, that was true. If I chose to let her think it was because of the funeral, that was up to me. She still curled her lip at any mention of Dallas's name – she'd been far more sympathetic when I'd gone to Johnny's service - but I figured that I was allowed a pass for today as well.

"Did Sylvia's brother drive you home?" Funny how that worked out, she'd think he chaperoned us all day.

"Yeah. There was a..." Hell, did you call it a party, given the circumstances? "People stayed to talk about Dallas," I finished lamely.

"A wake? Did you eat?"

I stared blankly. Food hadn't really been the point, had it? As if to answer her, my stomach growled.

"Guess not." Sarah commented. "C'mon, I'll make you something."

I murmured a non committal reply and went into the bathroom. I could hear her opening cabinets and clashing plates.

I felt wrong in my skin. I expected someone else to look back at me in the mirror. Using Sarah's makeup remover, I scrubbed at my face. I had to get a handle on this crying habit, it was doing me no favors in the eye makeup department.

_Dear God in Heaven_, I had a hickey. How had Steve had time to do that? I hadn't even noticed. There was no way that was an acceptable souvenir from a funeral. Sarah would think I'd been making out somewhere. I needed camouflage, and quick. Since I'd gone through a 'borrowing' phase a few years back, she didn't keep her cosmetics in the bathroom, so I opened the door as quietly as I could and made for the stairs and the sanctuary of my room.

As I slapped Max Factor on my neck, I realized I should have cleaned my teeth while I was downstairs. I could still taste the whiskey and cigarette combination of Steve's tongue. For that matter, I could still feel the touch of his hands. Still hear his voice...

What had I done?

If I'd stayed quiet, he would have taken me back.

But if I'd stayed quiet, he would have gone on thinking I'd cheated like Sandy.

He was so blitzed, he was maybe not even aware of what he was saying. So maybe he didn't really think I'd cheated. Why would he think that anyway? He knew I loved him.

But if he didn't know what he was saying, maybe he didn't really want me back.

I slammed my knuckles into my head to try and stop the thoughts sliding back and forth.

Sarah came in, carrying a plate and a glass of milk. I wanted to laugh. When was the last time she saw me drink a glass of milk, for Christ's sake? She deposited them on the dresser, scooping up a couple of used mugs that I'd left there.

"How was Sylvia?"

I had to make myself focus. It seemed like days since I'd seen Sylvia. I shrugged. "Not good. She didn't really..." I ran out of explanation.

"Were the other boys there today?"

"Of course."

"Steve?" Christ, why was she pushing? Why did she need to know? I nodded. Sarah pursed her lips in a disapproving way. I was not unfamiliar with this expression. "Did you talk to him?"

"Uh huh." _And then some._

"You shouldn't. I don't want him to upset you again."

I made some kind of noise that she could have interpreted pretty much any way she chose. I certainly had nothing intelligent to say on the subject.

"Oh, Evie, honey, he's not worth this. He's not worth you falling to pieces like this. I understand why you went to the funerals, I do. But now that's over, I hope you're not gonna have anything to do with any of those boys. And, yeah," she fixed me with a steely glare as she finished speaking, "I'm talking 'bout Darry's brothers too."

"I thought you liked Steve?" I sniffed, trying real hard not to cry again.

"Sure, when I got to know him a little, I liked him fine...right up until he broke your heart. Until I had to watch you fall apart these last few weeks. Now I could cheerfully spit in his eye."

I reeled a little under this condemnation. Just as I was absorbing it, Sarah changed her attack pattern.

"But really, Evie, this is why I told you not to get in so deep so quick. I warned you that you'd be hurt, didn't I? I warned you he was a no good..."

I didn't let her get any further. I launched myself off the bed, shoving her out of the room and slamming the door in her face. Then I did what I'd done repeatedly these last few weeks. I cried myself to sleep.

xXx

Another day, another set of footsteps on the stairs. Not good. I braced myself for Sarah's latest lecture, wondering if I could get away with pretending to be asleep. Or if I had the energy to pull the pillow over my face and block her out completely.

"Well, _this_ ain't gonna get baby a new pair of shoes."

I opened my eyes to see Sylvia standing over me, her hands on her hips. Makeup perfect, she looked like she'd stepped off the cover of a magazine. If there was such a magazine as 'JD Weekly'. She was wearing the tightest capris I'd ever seen, with the spikiest stilettos. I half expected her to be leaving stab holes in the carpet.

I pushed up, sitting back against the pillows and opened my mouth to speak. Sylvia held up her hand to stop me.

"Wait, don't say it... let me guess... 'What am I doin' here?' With or without assorted cuss words inserted?" She smiled. "That about the gist?" She started rifling through my closet. "What we oughta be addressing, is the question of why _you're_ there." She pointed at me, in bed. "It's Saturday night, Evie darlin', it's against the law to waste it." She pulled out a silky fitted shirt I hadn't had the nerve to wear yet and waved the hanger back and forth, like a pendulum.

"There's no way I'm going out." She had to be out of her mind. It was all I'd been able to do to get to work the last couple of days since Dallas's funeral.

Sylvia shrugged and dropped theatrically onto the end of the bed. "Well, I can sit here all night and tell you how you're wasting your life, if you prefer. I don't wanna. But I _can_..." She squinted at me. "What, in the name of all that's holy, are ya wearin'?"

It was an old shirt of Steve's. He'd forgotten it one time he'd stayed over and I'd deliberately not returned it. I'd pulled it around me tonight because it still smelled of him.

Sylvia's sharp eyes flicked over my night stand, where I had a glass holding a few movie ticket stubs and a dried wildflower I'd kept from one of our days when we used picnicking as an excuse for making out. It might not have looked like anything to do with Steve, if I hadn't propped the only photo I had of him against the glass.

She raised her eyebrows, enquiringly. "You got a candle? 'Cause we could set up a whole shrine. Make little offerings of pomade and motor oil."

Damn her. Despite my mood, I smiled. Sylvia looked triumphant.

"I knew you were in there somewhere. C'mon, Evie, this ain't no good to you. Let's go out."

"I can't."

She didn't know any of the stuff I'd done. Any of the mindless things I'd done that had destroyed any chance I ever had of getting Steve back. And possibly left him to get his head kicked in, as a chaser.

"What I'm thinkin' is," Sylvia said, in as serious a tone as I'd ever heard from her. "_This_. Life goes on, Evie. It either goes on without us, or we go on with it. We gotta choose. I ain't never gonna forget Dally, but _shit_, we weren't married, I ain't his _widow_."

That made me feel about an inch tall. Where did I get off wallowing more than her, when Steve was still alive, still here?

Sylvia continued. "Maybe we would've got back together an' maybe we wouldn't. Maybe you and Randle will, maybe you won't. But sitting in your room for days ain't gonna do the trick."

"Nothing's gonna do the trick, not now." I told her about my embarrassing encounter with Two-Bit. Sylvia burst out laughing.

"Mathews? Christ, Evie, I never expected you to go for _him_. Well, I guess it coulda worked. I'm surprised he didn't go for it, he's kind of a dog."

"He was real sweet, and at the...funerals, he was nice to me." I wondered if she remembered much of Dallas's funeral; she'd been pretty out of it.

"Didn't say he wasn't a _nice_ dog." She winked.

But there was worse, of course. Much worse. I told her about what happened at Buck's. Most of it. I didn't say anything about Tim _maybe_ trying to kiss me. I might have been wrong about that. I hoped I was wrong about that. But I told her what I'd said to Steve.

"Shit! You just cost me five dollars." Sylvia clicked her tongue against her teeth at me. "Buzz told me you'd said that about banging Shepard an' I thought he was high."

_Oh, just peachy, Buzz had told her what a mess I was in, that night. Guess that explained the current rescue mission._

"Good threat though, wish I'd seen Randle's face." Sylvia smiled gleefully. "Make sure I'm around next time you try it."

"How will there be a 'next time'?"

"Oh, he don't remember. Trey was at Buck's all night, said they found Randle passed out in a pool of his own vomit. Don't remember a thing after arriving at Buck's. _Real classy_. You sure this is the guy you want back?" Sylvia's eyes twinkled as she smiled.

Goddamn, she had to have known I was stressing about that and she'd been sitting on the information the whole frigging time! Steve didn't remember? Then he wouldn't front Tim about it and he wouldn't get his head kicked in. And he wouldn't think I'd...

She watched me absorb what she told me and chuckled. "_Now_ can we go out?"

* * *

**Well? Did I just please the Steve fans and disappoint the Tim fans? Just remember, nothing's over til it's over...**

**Do we think an evening out with Sylvia will help Evie? **


	6. Chapter 6

"Sylvia!" I elbowed her, to get her attention back. Her whole head had turned as she stared after the guy who'd just walked past our table.

"I'm just _looking_," she said, defensively. "Or is that not allowed?"

"You're the one who said this was not about guys tonight. '_We're just going out for a while, spend the evening just the two of us, talk up a game plan'_..."

She wrinkled her nose at my impression of her. "Glory. Blindfold me, then, 'cause he was _hot_."

Now I pulled a face. I hadn't thought so. At all. "He was kinda funny looking."

"Says the one who jumped on Mathews."

"That wasn't anything to do with me liking him that way, an' you know it."

"Would you've, though? If he went for it?" She was intensely curious, I could see. I shook my head. She thought some.

"How about Sodapop?" Hell, this was the kind of conversation she'd had all the time with Sandy.

"Would you?" Was the only retort I gave her, concentrating on my Pepsi.

"Nah. Never did like a pretty boy." She got a faraway look in her eye for a second or two, then she shook herself. "So, are we workin' on this plan to get Randle back or not?"

"Not by me going with anyone else. Steve don't think like that and I...can't," I finished feebly.

Sylvia sighed. "He might just be the only guy in this whole goddamn place who that wouldn't work on, I'll give ya that. He went wild when he found out I'd let him go behind Dally's back."

"I bet he did." I arched an eyebrow at her. We'd never actually gone into any details about her and Steve and I wasn't a hundred per cent sure I wanted to.

"Alrighty, then," she said, all business like. "Without you taking on a new guy, we gotta show him what he's missing, huh? We made a pretty good start, tonight. That shirt is outta sight."

I smiled sadly. "But he ain't here to see it."

"I know that! But other people see you out, looking fine, it gets back to him. Then we start crossing paths with 'em, parties, things like that. Hell, I'll borrow Buzz's car when he gets back, we'll swing by the DX, get gas."

"Back from where?" I asked idly, as a group of three girls took over one of the booths opposite us, whispering behind their hands and giggling as they darted glances at us.

"Tennessee, I believe, some game or other, high stakes...What's eating you now?" she followed my gaze.

I rested my elbows on the table, leaning my chin on one hand in a thoughtful pose, and nodded over at the other table. "You know them?" I asked her, without taking my eyes off them. Sylvia glanced over, just as their waitress delivered their order. "'Cause they're awful interested in us..."

"Oh, I do. I do indeed." Sylvia joined me in staring at the girls, who were now aware of our noticing them. They'd gone quiet. She smiled slowly, her eyes sparkling, her tone amused. "Do join me, Miss Munroe, while I perform the introductions."

We walked over deliberately, like spike heeled cats stalking our prey. The girls froze. I sat down, uninvited, and Sylvia shoved onto the seat opposite, forcing the two chicks there to squeeze up.

"Hi, girls." Sylvia reached for the fries they'd ordered, biting one delicately. "I was wonderin' if you knew my friend, Evie?" They squeaked nonsense replies. "You seemed awful keen to chat earlier." Sylvia sounded polite but deadly. We looked like two different species, their pastel sweaters and neat hair no match for our eyeliner and attitude.

"We were wondering where Sandy was," the mousy haired one next to me spoke up. I admired her bravery but I knew how to annihilate it. Without a word, I picked up her Pepsi and sipped, staring at her over the straw until she lost some of her nerve. I remembered Sylvia doing something similar to me, once upon a time, and I fought to keep a straight face.

"I'll be sure to tell her you were askin' after her," Sylvia said pleasantly, sprinkling a huge amount of salt over the dish of fries. The girls looked even more nervous, if that was possible. Sandy had just enough of a reputation that, if they weren't sure whether she was gone permanently, they wouldn't want to be brought to her attention. Sylvia finished burying the fries in salt. "This has been lovely. But I'm afraid we must be going."

Taking my cue, I considerately put the Pepsi back in front of the girl who'd ordered it. She looked at it with distaste. As we slid out of the booth, Sylvia looked back at the chick she'd sat next to.

"Diane? Did I hear right, that Pete Sanders is taking you to the movies?"

The girl in question nodded.

"Ain't that just peachy. I hope he got that car seat fixed, wouldn't want ya to be uncomfortable." Sylvia was all solicitude.

"There's nothing wrong with his car seat," Diane objected.

Sylvia leaned in, her voice like a switchblade sliding through silk. "I ain't talkin' about the _front_ seat."

The girl scowled and her companions gasped.

I led the way as we stalked out of the diner and along the street.

"Who's Pete Sanders?" I was curious.

"No fuckin' idea, I just heard a kid talking about Diane and him and I thought I'd mess with her. For some reason, these prissy chicks hate to think that I've sullied their gentlemen callers." Sylvia grinned.

I whooped with laughter, causing a couple of people on the street to look at us. Sylvia flipped them off and took my arm.

"Where to, now?" she asked.

xXx

We sauntered up and down, visiting the bowling alley, a couple more diners– although we didn't eat or drink anything, that wasn't the point at all – and eventually the Tasty Freeze. After that, Sylvia decreed that I had been on display long enough and we headed back to her house, although by our usual standards, the night was still young.

Her younger brother was slumped in front of the TV, the dying minutes of 'Gunsmoke' playing out in between his bare feet, which were propped on the coffee table.

"Aw, Saturday night and no tires to slash?" Sylvia razzed him. He waved his beer can in her direction, as a greeting or a comeback, I wasn't sure. I couldn't help but brace myself as she opened the kitchen door, although I knew by now the dog would be calmer when she was there. It seemed to be getting used to me; I couldn't really say the same about it. Sylvia rooted through some cabinets, grabbing chips and pretzels, throwing them to me.

"I ain't hungry," I told her.

"You will be," she said smugly, beckoning me to follow her up the stairs.

My feet were killing me. I had no clue how she walked so long in those heels, with no apparent ill effects. I flopped on her bed, exhausted, as she came back from her brothers' room with a joint.

"I'll lay money that Maria Carpenter won't be able to keep her mouth shut at school, she'll be yakking all over about you bein' out tonight, an' I think she has homeroom with Randle..." Sylvia mused. "I know for sure Tommy What'shisname takes auto mechanics, an' he was checking you out plenty." She handed off the joint and lay next to me, looking at the ceiling. "If I was still goin' to school, I'd be able to keep tabs on the rumors, but I think we did okay."

Sylvia had given up on school - with no job to go to and no opposition from her old lady as far as I could tell. I had tried to get an answer out of her about what she would do for money, but she was pretty vague with her replies. She said the only reason she'd seen out the last year was to hang with Sandy.

"After all, it's only been a couple weeks, he ain't got with anyone else, that we know," she continued brightly.

"Thirty one days," I said, after I got around to exhaling and handing back the reefer.

"What?"

"It's thirty one days since he dumped me." _Christ. How could it be that long? I felt like I'd slept through most of that time._

"Jeez, Evie. How many hours and minutes?" Sylvia laughed at me, but not in a mean way. "I remember when Dally went to reform school, I kept count of the days like that." She sighed. "Do you know why they hadda wait so long for his funeral? To have an autopsy, an inquiry to 'establish what happened'. How many ways did they need to fuck him over? They shot him. Don't need to be fuckin' Einstein to _establish what happened_."

I remembered some of the things Steve had said. About Dallas. About how they'd seen him hit the ground, seen the blood. To see a friend die was bad enough. To see him die in that way...I was pretty sure that night would never leave the guys' memories. But now I also wondered if it would leave Sylvia's. Whatever she tried to claim about moving on with life, eventually she always ended up coming back to Dallas.

We lay there, quietly finishing the joint.

"Jack's gone." Sylvia said, out of the blue, shocking me. "They transferred him. He took his wife. The bastard."

I closed my eyes, unable to focus on an appropriate response. _He was going anyway_. They didn't transfer him because of the shooting, he was going anyway. It didn't mean he'd been responsible for Dallas, I tried to tell myself. And tried real hard to listen.

"I think I hate him," she whispered.

"I think you should," I whispered back.

"I hate him most because he's tied to Dally, to my memories of Dally, y'know? Even if I remember something good, it still hurts now."

I knew exactly what she meant. Christ, I knew. I knew a way to make it stop too. I grabbed my purse, fumbled with the clasp, held the bottle out to her.

"What's this?" She tried to focus on the tiny label.

"My mom's Valium. You want?"

To my surprise, Sylvia shoved the bottle back at me, hard. "Fuck, no!"

"Why?" I tried to open it. She knocked it out of my hand, so that it rolled across the floor, coming to rest against a heap of clothes that spilled out of her closet.

"What're you doin'?" I protested. Although I didn't have the energy to go after it.

"That stuff ain't any good to you, what the hell are _you_ doin'?"

I recoiled from her anger. "Excuse me? What'd we just smoke? What's the difference?"

"A whole fuckin' lot. That stuff sucks the life outta ya...Christ, no wonder you been so weird these last few weeks. How much you taking?"

"You took it, or something like, on the day of Dallas's funeral, I know you did." I deflected her question.

Sylvia sighed. "Yeah, I did. And how did I seem to you, Evie? 'Cause from the inside it felt like shit."

"Well, it don't make me feel like shit, it don't make me feel at all."

"You'd rather be a ghost of a person, than feel anything?" Her tone was sad but it was her words that made me stop before I could reply.

_Oh God._

What I called the pod person, the alien Body Snatcher, that was what I despised about what had happened to Ma. The shadow she'd become. I pressed my hands to my closed eyes.

"It just hurts." Even to my ears it sounded feeble.

"Ain't it worth the hurt, though? To feel the good things too?" Sylvia reached out and took my hands away, made me look at her. "You wanna wipe out _all_ your feelings, even the good ones? Don't do that, Evie. Why'd ya wanna do that?"

I didn't want to, not really. It had just needed someone else to point it out, to make it clear.

"Tell me the best thing about Steve." She let go my hands and we lay side by side again. A smile began to build, it was out of my power to stop it. I chuckled.

"I can't tell ya that."

She started chuckling herself. "Wanna know what I like best about Dally?" She continued headlong, regardless of the fact I hadn't told her 'yes' or 'no'. "The best thing about Dally is when he talks in his sleep, none of it makes sense, but he only ever says _my_ name. Not no other girl's." She burst out giggling. "Course he might be having nightmares!"

I didn't process until much later, when I looked back on the conversation, that she'd slipped back into talking about Dallas in the present tense, to tell me that.

"Steve don't talk in his sleep." I grinned.

"Steve don't hardly talk at all," she snorted. I pushed her, but not hard. She just laughed and ripped open the chips, spilling half across the bedspread. Sylvia swore, quite mildly for her, and scooped them up, managing to crush most of them. I ate them with her, absentmindedly.

"Do ya think Sandy really is in Florida?" she asked me, making me stare in surprise. "Or do ya think they just said that 'bout her grandma, but they really sent her to the unwed mothers home?"

_Oh_. What to say? Why hadn't she contacted Sylvia?

"Ain't really her grandma. Just her stepdad's mom in Florida." I played for time.

"Whatever. Is she there, or with the nuns or the Salvation Army somewhere?" Sylvia shuddered. "That'd be worse than the whole 'shoving another person outta you' deal."

"You think?" I only had the haziest idea of what it might be like to give birth, mostly based on movies and trashy romance stories. There seemed to be a lot of screaming involved. And people being sent to boil water.

"My cousin said it wasn't nothin'. Mind you, her kid's some kind of scrawny runt."

Wait – "I thought you said your cousin went to a doctor to get fixed?" I was sure that was what I remembered.

"Yeah, that was her sister. My other cousin." Sylvia yawned. "After she saw how they butchered Annie, she figured she'd be better off going through with it." I felt slightly nauseous, remembering Sandy briefly considering an illegal abortion.

"Think Sandy'll come back? After?"

I shrugged, I had no idea. "Would you?" I asked. Sylvia snorted.

"Fuck, no. If I ever find a way out of this heap of shit town, I ain't never lookin' back."

xXx

In the morning, it suddenly hit me - I hadn't warned Sarah that I wouldn't be home overnight. _Shit._ Another day, another lecture.

I walked home from Sylvia's place, persuading myself that I was ready to deal with Sarah, whatever mood she was in, whatever she threw at me. Even so, my heart sank when I recognized the car out front.

Apparently we needed the advanced skills of a dry cleaning expert to change a light bulb, because that's what Square Tony was doing, balanced on a stepladder in our kitchen. Christ, I could have done it by standing on the table, if I wanted to.

"Hi, Evie," Tony greeted me cheerfully, loudly enough that Sarah heard and came beetling out from the front room. I glared at Tony. Would it have killed him to let me sneak upstairs?

"Where the hell were you?" Sarah hissed.

"Sylvia's." I couldn't see much point in elaborating. She asked, I answered, job done.

"You could've been anywhere! I about called the cops when I found you didn't come home."

I sighed. "Chill, will ya? You knew I went out with Sylvia."

"I feel so much better. Because she doesn't consort with hoods or criminals, does she?" Sarah's sarcasm didn't have quite the punch it could have, since she kept her voice low enough that Ma wouldn't hear. But still, I figured that sympathy for Sylvia had now run out as far as Sarah was concerned.

"Are you ever getting over this?" I demanded. "Am I gonna get to eighty years old an' have you still pointing out 'You knew a boy who got shot'?"

"It is kind of a big deal," Tony piped up from his position on high, like some kind of judging gargoyle.

"You stay outta this," I snapped. "You ain't the boss of me."

"Evie!" Sarah was royally pissed now. She didn't get the chance to continue because Ma called her and she went out of the kitchen.

Tony climbed down, sighing. "Evie, what'd I ever do to hack you off like this?"

I scowled at him. _You exist_, I thought childishly.

He seemed to realize I was never going to answer. "I'm just tryin' to help..."

"You ain't my dad!" I snapped.

"Oh, grow up, I ain't tryin' to be!" he snapped right back. Oh. That was different, he never spoke to me like that before. He ran a hand over his crew cut, visibly calming himself. "I'm not trying to take your sister away, either. I wouldn't do that to you."

Like I'd care if he took her to fucking Alaska, like I'd care if she disappeared right out my life with her rules and her disapproval and..._fuck_, as he stood there looking at me kindly, I felt my lip start wobbling.

I turned on my heel and shot up to my room, slamming the door behind me. It wasn't as satisfying as it should have been.

On the plus side, Sarah had been so pissed at me, she hadn't noticed that I'd let Sylvia do what Sandy had been bugging about for years. I touched my ear lobes tentatively, checking out the gold hoops in the mirror. I had to borrow them from Sylvia, but I intended to buy some of my own just as soon as I could. The possibilities for real cool earrings, like the ones Edie Sedgwick wore in the magazines, had me really fired up.

"_Besides," Sylvia had said, holding the ice cube tight to numb my lobe. "If certain people can get a tattoo without consulting you, you can get whatever you like done. Right? This'll make him sit up and notice you again."_

I winced. I hoped she was right.

* * *

**Well, at this point I would like to thank the person who inspired me, back in the original story, by pointing out in a PM that Evie had easy access to her mom's meds...ThePreachingNarwhal, you still around? There's another _huge_ plot point that they inspired too, so, talk to me, guys, you never know what might happen! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**I know, not my usual day to update, but what the heck! **

* * *

Marian sent me home half way through the day on the Monday. It was quiet, and she did that when it was quiet- sometimes - that was true, and she acted like she was being kind, but part of me was worried that I'd pissed her off, made one mistake too many. I didn't exactly argue though, I was just glad to be going home.

Until I got in and found Sarah had dropped back in her break to see Ma. I hadn't spoken to Sarah since yesterday. And she hadn't spoken to me. She'd spotted the earrings over dinner and wigged out, telling me I looked like a cheap tramp. Plus she was still hacked at the way I'd treated Tony. Still, she bought the story that it had been too quiet at work, although she fussed a little about my losing my job if trade really dropped off.

I began cleaning up the kitchen. I'd been up late that morning and it was my turn. Although I saw that Sarah had hung my washing out on the line. Maybe she wasn't so hacked, after all. It was cold, but there was some wind blowing, so hopefully it would dry. Otherwise we'd have to drape it in front of the fireplace and fill the house with condensation. I hated this time of year. I wanted the summer back.

Sarah shouted for me. When she did that, she generally intended for me to go to wherever she was, to find out what she was griping about. Completely aware of that, I usually just yelled back, "What?"

So I did exactly that, over my shoulder, half way through washing some dishes. After a short pause, she yelled again. Sighing in annoyance, I wandered through to the hallway, drying my hands on the dishtowel as I went.

She was in the bathroom, sorting through the medicine cabinet.

"Didn't you hear me call you?" she said, with an irritated look.

"Didn't you hear me answer?" I retorted.

She ignored the dig and started counting again. "When you went to the pharmacy last month, they didn't say they couldn't fill the whole of Ma's prescription, did they?"

"No..." Did I sound confused and surprised in the right measure?

"Something must have been wrong, 'cause this is nearly empty and there should be another couple of weeks left in it." Sarah frowned at one of the bottles, like staring at it hard enough would reveal what had happened. Of course, it was the one I'd put back yesterday, after Sylvia told me a few home truths.

_Shit, shit, shit. Think, Evie._

"Wait..last month? Didn't _you_ pick it up last month? Weren't you running low on cold cream or something? You said you were going past the drugstore anyway."

"That wasn't last month..." But she didn't look too sure.

I shrugged. "I dunno then. Hey, we're nearly out of milk, I'll run out now, if you like. Do you want anything else?"

"Eggs, I think." Sarah was distracted now, running through groceries in her head. "See how much bread there is left," she called after me.

I decided to go to the supermarket on the corner of Sutton. There was a little neighborhood store in the other direction, much nearer, but I was happy to use up some time walking. And maybe give Sarah the time to find something else to worry about and hopefully go back to work.

Something weird happened. A tuff looking Mustang drove past, full of guys in pastel colored sweaters. And they didn't lean out the windows and yell anything obscene. I was surprised, I was looking fine enough. Didn't look like anything but a greaser girl. I was still pondering this turn of events when I walked around the supermarket.

I'd picked up the milk and eggs and was just reaching for the bread, when a voice said, "Hi, Evie."

"Hi, Darry." I smiled and hoped to God it looked like I was genuinely pleased to see him. Inside I was dying of shame. Christ, if I'd thrown myself at him completely naked, that time at Buck's, it wouldn't have felt as bad to see him afterwards as it did now.

He grabbed a loaf of bread as well and asked if I had much more to buy. "I'll give you a ride home," he added.

"That's okay, I'm happy walkin', I ain't got anything heavy." I refused politely.

"I insist." There was no arguing with his tone.

I tried anyway. "What are you even doing here? You must have to get to work?"

He shook his head. First time I ever recognized why the guys said he was scary. I followed him out to his truck.

Darry put the key in the ignition but didn't turn it over. He rested his hands on the steering wheel, tapping his thumbs.

"I gotta ask you something, Evie." He exhaled, like it was hard for him to come up with the words. "Was Sandy telling the truth? It ain't Soda's baby?"

Glory, I was surprised. I'd been bracing myself for him to yell at me for keeping her secret, not for him to want the gory details.

"No," I told him, before I had time to think anything through. "No, it ain't Soda's, they never..." I shut up, suddenly very aware of what I was talking about to him. "No," I repeated feebly.

"That's what Soda said, but I just...wondered, y'know?" He shrugged, almost sheepishly. "I mean, I didn't think he'd lie about it. But it seemed..." _Unlikely?_ _Unbelievable? Impossible? _That Soda didn't get any? I waited for him pick an ending to his sentence, but he didn't.

"I'm real sorry, okay?" I blurted. "I wish I'd stopped her. I told her not to, I told her it was wrong, I wanted to say something to Soda, but she's my friend and she asked me to keep my mouth shut and I didn't know this was gonna happen...I'm sorry."

Darry looked taken aback by my outburst. Maybe boys don't go on like that. I figured I was freaking him out, so I shut up. He cleared his throat.

"No, _I'm_ sorry, Evie. I shouldn't have put you on the spot. It ain't your problem. Sandy's not your responsibility."

I couldn't stop myself, I snorted. "Maybe someone could tell Steve that." I heard the bitterness in my voice and didn't like it. Since we still hadn't moved, I opened the door to get out of the truck. "Look, I'm happy to walk. Not that it ain't been real, discussin' your brother's sex life 'n all."

"Let me drive you, please." He seemed genuinely sorry, but I could care less at that point.

I jumped out. "Nah, I'll walk."

As I headed home, I thought about Sandy and the repercussions of what she'd done. The effects still spread out like ripples on the lake. When would they stop?

I dragged myself out of my thoughts as I realized there was a car cruising next to me. I hadn't even heard it until the driver revved the engine dramatically. I pivoted, imagining it was Socs, that the previous carload had been a freak outbreak of politeness. I was ready to unload a mouthful of insults when I realized it was Sylvia's brother.

"Need a ride?"

Hell, obviously fate had something against me walking today.

"I'm nearly home," I answered, although not rudely. After all, he didn't know I'd just had a run in with Darry.

"Cup of coffee, then?" Buzz asked.

And I was just about to decline when I thought, why not? I was pretty sure Sarah would be gone by the time I got back, but it wouldn't hurt to be on the safe side.

xXx

"I thought you was a workin' girl?" Buzz challenged as he lounged across from me, in a booth at the diner he'd picked. It was a funny little place that apparently specialized in German cakes and pastries to judge from the wide selection on the menu. I'd never been there, but Buzz acted like it was some well known hang out.

"Excuse me?" I frowned at him, wondering if this was a crack about the earrings. I didn't think it would be, since his own sister had pierced ears.

"You work? And you're a girl?" His tone was innocent but his eyes twinkled. "But you ain't _at_ work. My question was designed to convey a query regarding a combination of these facts."

"I work. This is true." I watched as the waitress delivered my coffee and then put some kind of tall glass in front of Buzz, the whipped cream on top threatening to spill over the sides. "I got the afternoon off."

"Cool." He fished about in the glass with a spoon, eating the cream as if it were a dessert, not a drink. He realized I was watching him and paused. "You want some?" I shook my head, indicating that I was happy with my black coffee. Buzz shrugged. "Your loss." And proceeded to slurp the hot chocolate noisily.

He fixed me with his eyes as he licked around his lips, removing any traces of cream.

I called him out on staring.

"I ain't starin'. I'm using you as a mirror."

Since this made no sense, I told him so bluntly.

"Does too. People can't help reacting when they see someone with food on their face. If you was nice, you'd be concerned, wondering how to tell me. If you was nasty, you'd be secretly pleased and have a little smile to yourself." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "I already told you I know you're nice, so I was looking for the concern. No concern, no cream."

I laughed at this explanation. "Or I could not care either way?"

"Nope." Buzz lounged again, confidence oozing out of him. "I got you down, Miss Evie." He did the strung out 'E' sound again.

"Is that right, _Buzzzz_?" I put the emphasis on the 'z's, hoping to get a rise out of him. He just grinned.

"So, you an' Sylv have a good weekend?"

I pondered how to answer this. In one sense, we had. I'd enjoyed spending time with her and she was right, moping about was doing nothing for me. But I still felt that going out without Steve was wrong. And left a huge hole in my life. I wasn't about to describe all that to Buzz, so I just told him, yes, we had a good weekend.

"Christ, you're a shitty liar," he said pleasantly.

"I ain't!" What a strange thing to be indignant about. Although since I'd had so much practice I damn well should be good at it.

Buzz shrugged. "Tell me something about yourself. I'll tell you if you're lyin'."

"I got a sister called Sarah." Lame, but the first thing that popped into my head.

He nodded. "True."

"Sylvia probably told you that," I scoffed.

"Tell me something else, then."

I was determined now. "My real name's Evangeline," I said as casually as I could. I don't know why I chose my name to lie about, I suppose because he made such a thing of the sound of 'Evie'.

He narrowed his eyes, studying me. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out some cash. He smoothed a ten dollar bill very precisely on the table between us.

"Prove it, an' it's yours." His voice was low, intense.

"How am I gonna prove it?" I blustered.

"Easy. Show me your driver's license."

"Don't you care about losin' ten bucks?" I kept bluffing.

"I won't."

I couldn't keep a straight face any longer. I started laughing. "Okay. That ain't my name."

Buzz picked up the bill and put it back in his pocket. "What is it, then? You wouldn't have picked that fact if Evie wasn't short for _something_."

"How'd you know?"

"I'm good at reading people, _obviously_."

I rolled my eyes. "Modest, too, _obviously_. Okay. It's 'Evelyn', but if you call me that, I may have to kill you with this spoon." I snatched up said deadly instrument from the table and brandished it.

Buzz chuckled. "Noted." He paused. "Ooh, I just remembered. I had a kindergarten teacher called Miss Evelyn. She used to stand me in the corner."

"You deserved it, I'm sure."

He assumed an offended expression. "I was misunderstood." I shot him a disbelieving look. He shuddered dramatically. "School sucks. It is a cruel and unusual punishment. All I heard every damn day was 'Ace Richardson, stop doin' that', 'Ace Richardson, put that down' like I was..."

I blinked, interrupting. "I'm sorry, did you just change your name?"

"No..." He dragged out the word, like he was confused. "Oh. 'Cause the teachers wouldn't call me 'Buzz', d'ya mean?"

Now it was my turn to look confused.

He burst out laughing. "Christ, you think my old lady was high when she named me? Did ya think that 'Buzz' was my _real_ name?"

"Are you telling me '_Ace_' is your real name?" I challenged, highly skeptical.

Buzz chuckled, then suddenly looked me in the eye, his own eyes lighting up.

"How much you wanna bet?"

I sat back and shook my head. I wasn't that dumb. He patted his pockets, reached for his wallet, pulled out his driver's license.

"Good call." He nodded appreciatively, tossing it on the table so I could read it. His license did indeed have him listed as 'Ace'.

"But Ace is like a real cool name, so why...?"

"Why am I called Buzz?" He smiled, bringing his hand back from putting his wallet away and producing a playing card, with a magician's flourish. "First word I said was 'bee'." He flipped the card over between his fingers, showing the maker's name above the insect logo. I smiled.

"In fact, to hear my old lady talk, it was the only word I said for months. They thought I was a retard or something. Imagine that." He goggled his eyes at me. I began to wonder if he was serious about anything, ever.

"So, you got _named_ after a playing card, an' you got _nicknamed_ after a playing card?"

"Yup."

Something dawned on me. "'Ace' because you're the first? And 'Trey' because he's...no way?"

Buzz nodded, clearly amused that this had only just occurred to me.

I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicious again. "How come Sylvia's name ain't Deuce, then?"

"Who says it ain't? You seen her birth certificate?"

I tried to assess if he was kidding me. I couldn't tell. I filed the information away for the next time I could quiz Sylvia herself.

xXx

It started raining as Buzz drove me home, but I didn't really notice until I was out of the car and hurrying up the path. _Shit_, my washing. I shot around the house, to the back yard. The line was empty.

Oh, great. Sarah must not have gone back to work. I stomped inside and flung the milk and eggs in the icebox, tossing the bread in the general direction of the counter.

"Evie? That you?"

Ma came into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water. "Sarah dropped off those fabric samples at lunchtime," she told me. "You should look at them."

Yeah, because picking out whatever monstrosity of a bridesmaid dress lay in wait for me was this week's priority. _Hell._ I gritted my teeth and followed Ma back into the front room.

My washing was folded on the arm of the couch.

"Where's Sarah?" I asked warily.

"She went back to work. It started raining so I brought your things in. I think they're all dry."

I stared at Ma. She looked back at me steadily. To my knowledge, she hadn't been out of the house, not even into the yard for...I tried to count back. Five years? More?

"Don't tell Sarah," Ma said softly. "I'm trying to see if I can. To get to the church. To see her married."

Before I could speak, which would have been difficult anyway, because of the lump in my throat, she pointed at the coffee table.

"Look. These are the samples from the dressmaker."

Oh. The fabrics weren't any of the colors Sarah had talked about. I sat on the couch and picked up a pink one that shimmered silvery grey as it moved, the material shot through with something shiny that would make the dress change from every angle.

"I told her you'd like that one."

I stared at Ma. Lucky guess? Coincidence that I'd picked it up first? There was also a pale blue with the same kind of deal going on and a darker pink that I didn't like at all. Ma picked up a paper pattern from the pile next to the fabric swatches, held it out to me. The kind of dress a person could actually wear without looking like a freaking Disney character.

"I told her this one would suit you, but you have a look at them all, honey." She sipped her water and placed the glass down carefully, as she did most things, slow and cautious. "I didn't tell her she was wrong about my prescription."

I froze, the pattern suddenly becoming real important for me to study.

"She thinks I took a few too many. She's gonna go back to keeping them safe for me, so she can keep a check. I think that's a good idea. What do you think, Evie?"

How did she know? How in her shadowy, cotton wool state had she noticed?

"I stopped," I told her quietly.

"Because your sister found out?"

I shook my head. "I already decided. I don't want to lose the good feelings as well." I wondered if that was a criticism of her, I didn't mean it like that. I so wanted to explain, to have her understand. "I just wanted to stop hurting."

Ma nodded, like she got it, but I didn't know if that could be so. And then I thought about what had started her on the long road to where she was now. Maybe she got it. I whispered the thing that was hardest for me to admit, even to myself.

"I still love him, Ma."

When Sarah came home a while after, and found me curled on the couch, my head on Ma's lap while we both stared at the TV, for once she didn't say a word.


	8. Chapter 8

I never thought our turf was that big. Granted, when things were bad with the Socs it had, at times, felt like it was shrinking. Like there were fewer and fewer places to go. Something had shifted slightly now, with the deaths of one of theirs and two of ours. Things were a little more subdued. Sylvia and I could walk without carloads of Socs yelling at us. Oh, guys still wolf whistled and that kind of shit, that was business as normal, but it didn't feel quite as threatening as when they hurled abuse of a nastier kind.

And we walked a lot of places. The movie theaters, various diners – not The Dingo so much, but plenty of other places. A couple of bars, if we could smile our way in. Sylvia usually charmed popcorn or sodas or even proper drinks for us, but we never did any serious hooking up. She didn't push me on that, and I was grateful.

We still had issues with other girls. We were dangerous, in their eyes, whether we were actually on the make or not. I began to enjoy recognizing the signs; the little sniffs of disapproval, the sideways sneers, the barely breathed aloud comments. They became guarantees of a good night's entertainment, if Sylvia – and I – took up the challenge and let fly a few well chosen words. There was a certain secret pleasure in being labelled a bad girl.

The thing that now made me think that our neighborhood was bigger than I imagined was this: I never ran into Steve. It was like he'd vanished from the face of the earth. Of course, I avoided the DX like it was plague ridden but even so, it got to the point where I didn't bother to steel myself any more for the possibility of seeing him. Or Soda, for that matter.

Sylvia bugged me about one thing though. One place that we didn't go. She assumed it was because of Steve. For once, she was wrong.

Eventually I ran out of excuses. There was nothing more I could claim as a reason for not going to Buck's that sounded anywhere near plausible. Not without telling Sylvia why I wanted to avoid Tim. Nor admitting it to myself.

It was true, it was the easiest place to get drinks without the hassle of anyone checking ID. Mine, of course. She was in the clear now. Hilariously, she could buy the stuff legally when Buzz couldn't. The conversation we had about that let me know that he wasn't quite twenty one. I don't know why I'd assumed he was older still. A combination of the fact he'd been in prison and gambled so much, I suppose.

I _looked_ over eighteen, I was sure of that. Especially now that Sylvia had a hand in choosing my gear. My makeup had always been cool enough, but the way I dressed was changing. Why the hell shouldn't it? I had no guy to object, even if every head in the room followed my legs when I walked in. So maybe I was wearing stilettos more often. Maybe I liked it.

Sylvia was a lot of fun to go out with. I knew that went against everything I'd ever complained to Sandy about, but things were different now. I was different and so, to a certain extent, was Sylvia. The combination of Dallas dying and the cop deserting her had made her diamond hard. She no longer talked about finding a guy to live through, like some glamorous parasite; she was determined to do her own living.

It was still painful to remember I wasn't with Steve, but I did think Sylvia might be right about this. Stuff in magazines and on TV was pretty convincing when it came to telling us that girls should be able to do what they wanted. I didn't want to be a hippie, no way, but I kind of liked the idea of making my own decisions about my life. If that got me called a women's libber, what the fuck.

Of course, making my own decisions was hard, in the face of Sylvia's persuasive talents. She insisted once again that the two of us go to Buck's and I caved, even though it was a work night.

We ran straight into Two-Bit at the bar.

"Hey, Tink, how ya doin'?"

I noticed he had a bruise along the side of his jaw. He smiled at me genuinely, although he didn't greet Sylvia quite so openly. She didn't even seem to notice, much less care.

Buck smiled at her, almost sadly I thought, and he wouldn't let us pay for our drinks. They spoke in quiet tones across the bar as Two-Bit insisted on carrying our drinks to a table for us. When Sylvia came and sat down, I asked her what was up, meaning her conversation with Buck.

"It's Dally's birthday," she said. I stared at her. This was why she insisted on being here tonight? _Christ._

"Is it?" Two-Bit looked surprised, turned back to our table, from where he was leaning on the end of the bar. "Can't say as he ever bothered with 'em much."

"That _you_ knew of," a voice drawled from behind us. _Shit. _I didn't look round.

"Me 'n Dally had a few joint celebrations at this time of year," Tim continued. He pulled a chair around to our table, straddling it, joining us uninvited. "You missed my birthday, darlin'. But better late than never." He leered at Sylvia. "Let's go celebrate upstairs. I won't cry if you call me 'Dally', by mistake."

"Fuck off," she all but spat in his face.

He grinned. "Kind of what I was gettin' at."

"Leave her alone." The words were out of my mouth before I knew it.

Tim shifted his focus onto me, in that unnerving way he had, his gaze moving slowly over me.

"I thought you were awful quiet. For you."

I fought to keep my expression neutral.

Out the corner of my eye, I saw Two-Bit bristle. More worryingly, I noticed Sylvia making a quick assessment. I tried to keep my face still.

"Happy to oblige, sweetheart," Tim told me, perfectly pleasantly. "Although, if you'd rather I left her alone, I guess that just leaves me an' you. 'Bout time." He nodded suggestively towards the stairs. I scowled at him. He shook his head, pretending to be sad. "Don't tell me you're still pining away? You gotta know the grease monkey moved on? Saturday, wasn't it, Mathews? When you was all in here, picking up chicks?"

"Shut your trap, Shepard."

"Oh, man, was that a secret?" Tim smirked. "I thought everyone knew the Three Mouseketeers were on the make again. I heard the pretty Curtis was practically making an exhibition sport of it. But Randle was doin' okay, too." He swung off the chair, winked at me. "You know where to find me, sweetheart, when you change your mind. Ain't like you never looked me up before."

"You'll have to be more specific about the Curtis boys. They're all pretty, _compared to some people_," Sylvia sniped after him as he stalked off.

Two-Bit downed most of the beer in his hand in one gulp. When he finished it, he frowned at me. "What'd he mean, you 'looked him up' before?"

Sylvia stood up, dragging on my arm. "C'mon, Evie, I need to powder my nose."

In the restroom, once she'd kicked the stall open to make sure we were alone, she turned on me, like I'd known she would.

"What the hell was all that about? What's Shepard's deal with you?"

I shook my head. I was still processing what Tim had said. And Two-Bit hadn't denied. They'd been picking up chicks. _Steve_ had been picking up chicks. I lit a cigarette, thinking about the day of Dallas's funeral, the last time I'd been here. When I walked out into the alley and Steve was there. What if I'd taken him back then?

"Evie." Sylvia quietened her tone. "That shit that went down, with the guy you got Jack to haul in. Did you set that up through Shepard?" I nodded. She swore under her breath. "I knew it was the guy Steve got arrested for. I wondered how you got to the Kings." She swore again. "What's Shepard got on you now?"

"Nothin'."

"He never does nothin' for nothin'."

I shrugged. "He owed me in the first place."

Sylvia stared in frank disbelief, then she shook her head. "Nah. There's more to it. He was real freaky just now, even by his standards."

I screwed my nose up, peered at her, embarrassed. "I think he, maybe, kind of, made a move on me. Maybe." I took a long drag on my weed, hoping it would give me some sort of clarity of thought.

Her eyes went the size of saucers. "_Maybe? _He just out an' out propositioned both of us, in the bar. You can't really be unclear about what Tim Shepard's after."

"I think he tried to kiss me," I told her in a rush, like it would sound less final if I said it at speed.

"And you..? Turned him down," she answered her own question, in a flat voice, "because you were hung up on Randle. Of course you did." She took a deep breath. "Oh, Evie."

"I'm sorry," I said, desperate to change the subject. "You wanted to come here for Dallas's birthday an' this has made it all about me."

Sylvia shook her head. "D'ya know what? I thought I did. But sitting in there...I ain't any closer to Dal than I am at home or anywhere. I think I just realized that. He ain't here." Her eyes were sad but she made a huge effort to smile at me.

I admired her then. I flat out admired her. And I made a decision. One of my own. My heart gave a small twinge of protest but I ignored it.

"Sylv," I said. "I think I'd like to get a little bit drunk. If we can get some guys to buy the drinks."

xXx

It wasn't hard. Even without Sylvia's advanced flirting skills, it was never going to be that big of a challenge to get drinks bought for us. There were some guys in cowboy boots and western shirts propping up the bar, talking with Buck. One even had a hat. Wasn't no Paul Newman in Hud, but it made a change from leather and hair grease. We picked them. They were only passing through, which seemed like a bonus to me.

At one point in the evening, Two-Bit tried to pull me aside. He was half crocked himself by then. I reached up and laid my hand on his cheek. I had to raise my voice, over the background noise of voices and music.

"Two-Bit, I know you're trying to be helpful an' all. But you ain't my boyfriend. Not even my boyfriend's friend." He started to protest, but I shook my head. "Steve made his choice. You gotta let me make mine."

He blinked, looking from me to the cowboys, who were setting up another round. I shrugged and walked away, leaving Two-Bit to digest what I'd said.

We played pool for a hour or so. Of course, pool is just ideal for guys who want to cop a feel. They pretend to be showing you how to hold the stick, or how to line up the perfect shot and all the time they're just pressing up against you, leaning you over the table, breathing in your ear. It was a lot of fun.

And Sylvia took them for ten bucks, because she pretended she'd never played before. They complained good naturedly about being hustled, but I was pretty sure they knew all along what she was up to, they just didn't care. They were having fun too.

Eventually, I started yawning and commented that I had to be up for work the next morning.

"You city folk got no stamina. I was up at four this morning," scoffed the good looking one. Karl, I was pretty sure that was his name. 'City folk' made me smile. I wondered where he came from, that he thought this corner of Tulsa counted as the bright lights. I made some lame comment about needing my beauty sleep.

"Seems to me you got plenty of that, already." Aw, cute, he was really trying. He offered to drive me home and I said yes. I tried to persuade Sylvia to leave, but she insisted she was staying. There was a certain gleam in the other cowboy's eye when she said that.

Karl put his jacket around my shoulders as we went outside into the cold air, and he opened the passenger door of his pickup for me. I was musing on the old fashioned manners when he proved he was actually more up to date than that, by kissing me the second he leaped into the driver's side. I kissed him back.

It was _okay_. That was about all I had time to register before he turned the engine over and we headed up towards the road.

I sat there, giving him directions, trying to work out if it was only okay because he wasn't that good at kissing, or because it was different to Steve.

He asked me if I was working full time or just waiting to go to college. I laughed a little and told him I hadn't graduated high school, I'd dropped out. I was only thinking it was funny because he thought I was smart enough for college. But he got a real freaked out expression on his face.

I pointed out my house just as he asked me how old I was. He pulled up to the curb and looked at me in horror, when I told him I was still sixteen. I was getting close enough to seventeen that I could have stretched the truth, but I'd picked up that he was worried, so I wanted to yank his chain some more.

"Why? How old d'ya think I was?" I challenged.

He closed his eyes briefly, like it was painful for him to answer. "Older'n that, honey."

I shrugged. It didn't bother me. I'd had a nice evening, but it wasn't like I was going to ask him to stay the night.

"What about your friend?" he asked.

"Sylvia? She's eighteen. I don't think your buddy's gonna get arrested." I giggled at his relief. I leaned over and kissed him quickly, before scooting to open the door. "Thanks for the ride home."

He was shaking his head ruefully as he drove away. I practically had to stop myself skipping up the path. Sure, I'd thought about Steve when Karl kissed me, but it hadn't hurt. For the first time, thinking about Steve hadn't hurt.

xXx

"Hey, Tink."

I was half asleep, leaning against the bus window and I jumped a little as Two-Bit dropped into the seat beside me. It was almost a week after we'd run into each other at Buck's.

"Hey, yourself, Mathews." I smiled.

"How's it hanging?"

"Pretty good. How're you?" _And why're you on this bus, at this time of day?_ My suspicious mind went into overdrive.

"_All_ good, all the time, y'know me." He grinned and offered me a stick of gum, looking at me real careful, while trying to be casual about it. He would have made a crappy spy. I turned around to face him, opening my eyes wide, giving him a good view of my pupils.

Give him his due, he looked embarrassed. I chuckled.

"Seriously, Two-Bit? You think I'd be loaded at this time of day, on my way home from work?"

"Didn't think you'd be loaded the time we went to the lake." _Ouch._

"Guess I needed to be, to consider kissing you." I kept my tone light.

He playacted that I'd stabbed him in the heart, clutching his chest and groaning. But he did come back with, "So I wasn't wrong? You were on something?"

I swallowed. I missed him as a friend. Much as I'd griped about the whole 'gang date' thing when Sandy had insisted we all stick together, I did miss the hanging out. And I realized he didn't know I'd overheard him telling Steve at the church that time, for him this was the first time we'd covered it.

"Yeah," I admitted quietly. "I was. I was kinda mixed up there, for a while. But I'm okay now."

Two-Bit dropped his arm off the back of the seat, around my shoulders, gave me a quick hug. "That's good, Tink. That's real good." He chewed his gum for a minute, tapping his fingers on the seat.

"Something else on your mind, there?" I sighed.

"Just wonderin'...about you and Mr. Timothy Shepard."

"There's no 'me and Tim', to wonder about," I said quickly.

"Hmm, just wonderin' about what he said. 'Bout you looking him up." Damn, I should've figured that would come back to bite me. _Screw Tim Shepard and his big mouth. _Two-Bit continued with his train of thought. "Thing is, he's been known to do a little business with, shall we say, _recreational substances_...? You didn't get your shit from him, did ya? 'Cause he's dangerous to deal with."

_Oh. Interesting. I hadn't even considered he might think that. Talk about adding two and two and getting five. _I was able to smile quite genuinely and tell Two-Bit that, no, I had never bought drugs from Tim Shepard.

"Hey, I'm havin' a party, you wanna come?" he said, changing the subject entirely.

I shook my head. "As if."

"My parties are legendary!" he objected.

"Well, not so much – I was there at your birthday, remember? You slept through it. But that ain't why it's not a good idea, an' you know it."

"Excuse me, that was not MY party, that was a party in my honor, at the Curtis residence. I love Darry like a brother, but he ain't exactly known for his raging. _My _parties are off the hook. An' I get to say if it's a good idea."

"I mostly hang with Sylvia these days," I told him sweetly, knowing he disliked her. He shrugged.

"I saw that. I can dig her, for your sake."

"Two-Bit!" I started to object to this obvious lie, but it was getting to my stop, so I had to elbow him to get out of the way. He followed me, hopping onto the street after me.

"This ain't your stop, " I challenged.

"I'll walk ya."

I looked at him, suspiciously.

"There's a lot of dangerous hoods on these streets, y'know," he said loftily.

"Oh. Okay." I nodded. "C'mon, then. I'll protect you."

Two-Bit laughed and we fell into step, his long legs making allowances for my shorter stride.

"Evie," he said after a minute or so. "You an' Sylvia, those guys in the bar. You know what you're doin'?"

I stopped dead, making him almost trip as he reacted. "I must've missed the advertisement," I said sarcastically. "Y'know, the one for the job as my social secretary."

"Aw, Evie..." He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Don't need no big brother, neither," I told him. "So, I ain't real sure what you're doing in my business."

"Wasn't tryin' to be those things. Just your friend." His voice was quiet, subdued even, for Two-Bit.

I felt a pang of guilt. But I also needed some self belief, something I could hold onto to confirm I'd made the right decision. I didn't want to go back to those days after the break up when I hurt so bad. So I went on the attack.

"What do you think is gonna happen, if I come to this party? You think Steve'll see the error of his ways and welcome me back with open arms? Think we'll go back to how we were, in the summer?" I shook my head. "I sure as hell don't. An' you know Steve better'n that."

"Christ!" Two-Bit slammed his hand against the chain link fence we were standing next to, making it shake, making me jump. "Everything's so fucked up. I wish we _could_ go back to the summer, I really do. I wish you an' Steve were still together. That Soda was with Sandy, not screwing his way round the whole goddamn North Side, an' I wish Johnny and Dal –" He closed his mouth abruptly, looking away from me.

He took a couple of deep breaths and when he turned back to face me, he had the usual Two-Bit grin firmly in place.

"Who knows, Tink? Maybe we can rustle up some kind of party miracle, huh? Think about it, yeah?" He blew me a kiss and crossed the road, back towards his side of the neighborhood.

I watched him go, even though I could have told you without looking, that he would reach in his pocket for his hip flask as he walked away.

* * *

**A.N. - Cookies to anyone who noticed the reference to 'The Boys Are Back In Town' ... yup, that was the night Tim was talking about _;) _**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hmm. Did we not like the last chapter? 'Cause, reviews...not so many...? Wrong update day? Hate the plot? I'd still be happy to hear, even if something doesn't work for you - helps me get it right next time! Drop me a line, whatever you think :) **

**Enough with the paranoia, on with the story...**

* * *

Of course it was a mistake to tell Sylvia about the party. I'd imagined her scoffing at the very idea of hanging with anyone from the old crowd. I'd imagined her planning some cool night out on the town, just to prove we could have a better time without them.

No way did I picture us - dressed in our hippest gear, buzzed to the point of not caring – shimmying up the steps of Two-Bit Mathews's front porch and slaying every unattached guy there with our sheer hotness. And yet...

"Hey, Tink! You made it!" I watched as Two-Bit turned full circle with open, and presumably full, beer cans balanced on both his outstretched arms. The room erupted into applause and yells of appreciation as he completed this feat, at which point the cans disappeared in various directions, to be chugged by persons unknown.

The music was shaking the walls, kids were dancing, making out on every available surface, drinking, smoking, screaming to be heard. It looked like Two-Bit's assessment of his parties was pretty accurate.

As we made our way to the kitchen, presuming that was where we'd find the booze, we were treated to the spectacle of Sodapop Curtis, almost horizontal on the stairs, with a dark haired chick straddling him, her tongue half way down his throat, hands all over him.

She looked like a kid who'd been allowed to scarf all their Halloween candy at once.

It was weird for me, after seeing him with Sandy so much. Sylvia just chuckled and muttered something about leopards and their spots. I reminded myself that he had a rep as a player, long before Sandy pinned him down. And he was obviously over her. Despite the guilt that still welled up inside me, when I thought about what she'd done, he sure looked like he was over her. It was still weird.

In the kitchen, the usual mix of party people were hanging out, holding up the countertops while they sloshed drinks into paper cups and themselves. Sylvia appropriated a fifth of vodka and set about pouring us a couple of generous measures.

"Wanna play 'spin the bottle'?" A guy in a denim jacket loomed over me.

"How old are you?" I scoffed.

He smiled lazily and held up a half full bottle of Jack. "New rules," he leered, licking his lips.

"Maybe later," I lied smoothly, ducking past him and following Sylvia through into the front room. Whether she was scoping the place for guys, I wasn't sure. That we would run into Steve at some point, I knew for certain. Either way, I was more secure with her around.

Okay, I'd decided that moving on was the only sensible thing to do. I'd put it into practice at Buck's and it had been alright. I'd kissed the cowboy – or let him kiss me – and I hadn't fallen apart. Maybe I hadn't enjoyed it very much, but that was down to his not being a good kisser. If I'd made the decision to move on with my brain, my heart would have no choice but to follow. I wouldn't give it the choice.

But I still wasn't looking forward to seeing Steve. I swallowed a large mouthful of fake-Russian courage.

I'd followed Sylvia right through the house, on a loop that took in the unattached girls dancing in the front room and the unattached guys lounging while they checked out the girls. Eyes that narrowed when they saw the two of us, followed by eyes that looked us over hungrily.

We moved back through the entryway. Even that space was full of people. Sylvia paused at the bottom of the stairs, sipping her drink.

"Not much goin' on," she commented dismissively. "You see anyone worth staying for? I sure don't."

"Present company excluded, I hope?" Soda came down the stairs at a leisurely pace, tucking his shirt into his jeans. No sign of the brunette, but he had a certain 'pleased with himself' smile, that left little to the imagination about their recent activity.

"Babydoll Curtis, I'm sure you could make it worth our while to stay for a spell." Sylvia returned a smile of her own that would have sent lesser men running for the hills. I spluttered her name in protest but Soda just grinned and appropriated the vodka bottle right out of her hand, swigging it like he was downing water after running a marathon. He sat on the stairs, so he was more or less on a level with us.

"How you two doin'?" he inquired cheerfully. I couldn't do more than squeak an answer. Maybe I was still too freaked by what had happened with Sandy to believe that he was chatting comfortably to me. Sylvia, however, was on fine form and gave him a smutty answer that made him roar with laughter, causing more than one head to turn our way. Since several of those heads belonged to chicks who already had daggers in their eyes for us, Sylvia loved it. If there was no guy she was interested in, hacking off other girls was her favorite evening activity.

She gestured for him to top up both our cups. I hadn't even realized mine was empty. A couple of guys elbowed past us, on their way to the kitchen. Sylvia hopped out of their way onto the stairs, sitting next to Soda.

"What're you doin?" I hissed, as she pulled on my arm until I sat on the other side of him, squeezing all of us in.

"Shh. I'm yankin' Janette's chain."

Without being obvious, I glanced over to the archway through to the front room. Sure enough, Janette Wise looked like she'd exchanged her drink for pure vinegar as she regarded us.

"I didn't know Janette was here." Soda's voice had an edge of interest in it.

Sylvia put her hand on his knee, keeping him in place. "An' thinking she had a shot at you, until I got in the way. Be good for a second, I wanna really rub it in." She laughed as if Soda had said something real funny and leaned into him, her gestures making it look like they were having an intimate conversation.

"Sylvia." Soda grinned, draping his arm around her shoulders, the vodka bottle tilting dangerously in his hand. "You do know I'm only playin' along to get Janette good and interested, don'tcha?"

"Well, duh." She rolled her eyes. "Like we wanna play for real. Get over yourself."

"Anyway, you're both...I mean, it wouldn't be right."

"Christ, Curtis. We dated your buddies. Don't make us into fuckin' nuns."

"Gotta say, Sylvia, not the first thing that came into my mind. Don't really see you as a nun."

Before she had a chance to utter the reply I saw boiling up in her, a couple tried to edge down the stairs, the guy bumping me hard in the back.

"Hey!" I tried to save my drink from flying off, scooting into Soda's side as much as I could. He pulled me across onto his lap, to let them past, wisecracking at the guy. He said that his driving skills should have warned us he couldn't make it down the stairs in a straight line, saying that he once saw him scrape a wall when he was the only car on the road. We were all laughing and razzing the guy, even though I'd never seen him before in my life, when a familiar voice cut through all the noise.

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me? Soda, what the hell're ya doing?" Steve's eyes swept over us. Over me. And right on past.

I froze, feeling slightly sick. Sylvia, as usual, had better reflexes.

"I thought I could smell Havoline," she drawled. I realized what a picture we must make, her under Soda's arm, me on his lap. Sylvia smiled sweetly, which always meant trouble. "We're havin' fun, Randle, I can see that would be a difficult concept for you to grasp. Luckily, we don't need you. So why don't you run along and find an engine to play with. Or yourself."

"Chill, man," Soda started to say, just as Two-Bit appeared from the kitchen doorway, heading our way. He looked almost as surprised as Steve. I wriggled off Soda's lap as delicately as I could, given the length of my skirt. Other kids were still pushing past, oblivious to the sudden mood in this area.

"Are you blitzed already?" Steve demanded of Soda. "Or did you have a sudden desire to slum it?"

"_Steve_..." Both Soda and Two-Bit said at the same time.

A tall girl appeared from the crowd, putting her arm around Steve's waist. "There you are, I didn't see where you went." She smiled at him.

Sylvia chuckled in delight. "Oh, it's only Soda not allowed to 'slum it', huh? Looks like you been cruisin' the back alleys yourself."

"Say what?" The girl bristled. "You'd better not be talking 'bout me."

Soda disentangled his arm as Sylvia stood up, the spark of a possible fight in her eyes. And apart from his initial arrival on the scene, Steve hadn't so much as glanced at me. I pushed myself up off the stairs, shoving past the girl and heading out onto the front porch.

I bummed a weed off a couple of guys who were on their way inside, waiting impatiently for one to light it from his own. I could hear the raised voices already and I turned away, leaning on the rail.

"Hey, Evie, you okay?" Soda had followed me.

"Yeah, I'm havin' the best time." I couldn't help snapping. I wasn't upset, I wouldn't let myself be, that was what I told myself. So what if Steve hadn't even acknowledged me? So what? Didn't matter to me none, no more than it bothered me to see the fading black eye he had. Not at all.

Soda blinked at me - I realized we were both half crocked - and he said, "I'll tell him, we was just getting kicks. Nothin' to it."

"Don't tell him nothing! It ain't his business what I do, or don't do. Tell him to fuck off, for all I care." Even as I half yelled it, I knew I wasn't making any sense. I tried again. "Soda. Just get Sylvia out here, so we can book it. Please."

I wasn't the only one with that idea. The front door opened and Two-Bit propelled Sylvia out, holding her by the arms. She was screaming over his shoulder,

"You are the most thick headed dipshit, Steve Randle. You don't deserve a girl with half a brain. You go off with your skanky little whore. See how good _she_ is at watching your back."

Steve appeared instantly, like an explosion filling the doorway. "What bullshit you talkin' now?"

"I'm talkin' about _Evie_ having your back, you moron. Hell, she had me under one thumb, stopping Dally kicking your teeth out for what we did..."

There was a significant murmur of surprise from Two-Bit and Soda at that point, as I snapped Sylvia's name and tried to shake her arm. But Steve was cussing her from one end of the alphabet to the other, and she was focused on him.

"C'mon, Randle. What about the rest of what she did for ya? Surely even your pea-brain must've wondered what happened to that prick you got hauled in for? You know he was threatenin' to clean your clock for good."

"What are you saying, Sylvia? He went down for possession..." Even wasted, Two-Bit knew exactly who she was talking about.

"Yeah. Stuff he 'possessed' because Evie..."

"_Sylvia_, _shut up_!" This time I yanked her arm hard, pulling her down the steps and towards the street. I knew Steve was looking at me now. But I didn't look back.

Down the street a ways, I rounded on Sylvia. "What the hell did you just do? Why would you tell Steve all that?"

"He's a self centered asshole, Evie, he oughta know exactly how good you were for him." She was unrepentant, despite the fact that we'd discussed my decision to move on, to let Steve go. "Evie, he oughta know!"

"Then it's up to me to tell him," I insisted. "I didn't want half the neighborhood knowing my business."

"Half the neighborhood," she scoffed. "Mathews was lit an' Soda don't count, 'cause he and Randle share one brain cell anyway, so they don't got secrets from each other."

"They sure as hell don't now. You just told 'em about you an' Steve!"

Sylvia wavered slightly. "So? Ain't like they're gonna tell Dally is it?" Her voice calmed down. "He was the only one it woulda mattered to." That wasn't true, of course, it mattered to Steve, I knew that. And if I allowed myself to think about it, it kind of mattered to me, even now. But I wouldn't let myself think about it, any more than I would let myself think about the tall girl back at the party. Or the fact that Steve hadn't even spoken to me.

"We shouldn't have gone," I sighed.

"Well, there weren't any decent guys there, that's for sure. But the night's still young. We can hit up a few places yet." Sylvia's optimism reared its head again, although she missed my point. Probably deliberately.

I rolled my eyes. "There's no such thing as a decent guy, that's what I think."

"Oh, there are plenty of good ones out there. If you opened your eyes..." Sylvia suddenly discovered a stone in her shoe and stood precariously on one leg to shake it out.

"What're you talkin' about now?" I sighed.

"Never mind." She walked off ahead of me. Just as I began to follow her, Soda loped up.

"Hey, you okay?" He seemed genuinely worried.

I guess he and Two-Bit were determined to prove me wrong when I said there were no decent guys. Both of them checking on me, seeing if I was doing okay. I'd have been happy enough about their interest if it didn't also highlight the one person who no longer had any concern for me.

I ignored Soda's inquiry and told him to go back to the party.

"I can walk y'all." He gestured to Sylvia, sashaying along the sidewalk ahead of us.

"An' miss the party yourself? Why? We don't need a chaperon."

"Yeah, but..." He squirmed. I waited. "What Sylvia said..."

And there we had it. Maybe even the gallant and charming Sodapop Curtis actually had an ulterior motive in expressing concern about me. Surprisingly disappointing.

"No." I told him, point blank. "I ain't got nothin' to say. Go away."

Soda tried again. "Is it true, what she said?"

"Jeez, I dunno, man, she said a lot. Maybe you should ask Steve."

"Evie, c'mon. Steve took off. He was mad as hell."

Like that was unusual. I managed a disinterested shrug. "Not my problem."

Sylvia turned around, calling to me. I held my hands out as I backed away from Soda, to show that I really had nothing to say. He frowned, but he didn't argue any more and he didn't follow me.

xXx

Another weekend rolled around. This one promised to be a lot of fun, because Buzz was back in town and, according to Sylvia, rolling in dough. After the disaster of Two-Bit's party, I was ready for a good time. Something to convince me that moving on was more than just what I had to do, it was what I wanted to do. I got ready at Sylvia's, which made sense if I wanted to avoid Sarah giving me grief over how I looked or what time I should come back. These days I stayed at Sylvia's pretty much all weekend.

"Ladies' choice," Buzz grinned, throwing an arm over each of our shoulders as we headed towards his car. "Wherever you fine lookin' chicks wanna go, is okay by me."

"Mexico!" I yelled at the same time as Sylvia shouted, "Hawaii!"

"Evie wins, no contest. I can drive to Mexico. I ain't never goin' up in no airplane." Buzz shuddered dramatically. "If you ain't born with wings, you got no business being up in the sky." He stopped in front of the Bel Air, patting all his pockets in turn. Sylvia rolled her eyes and handed him the key.

"You left it on the coffee table. Again."

"All aboard for Mexico," he said with a grin. "Although, I'm thinking, our first stop should be that joint out on the Catoosa highway. They got a band playin' tonight. There might be dancing..." He shot a questioning look my way.

I called him on it. "Why you looking at me like that?"

"I figure you for a dancer, Eveeee."

"Oh ya do, do ya, Buzzzzz?" I replied.

"Sure," he said, starting up the engine. "Better'n Miss Elephant Feet any...Ow! Don't hit the driver, that's Basic Safety Rule Number Two, broken right there."

Sylvia stuck her tongue out at him, unrepentant.

I laughed at them, seeing as I was safe in the back, as they poked and jostled each other until Buzz pulled out onto the main drag and Sylvia got fed up.

"What's Rule Number One?" I asked, feeling warm enough to unbutton my cardigan. Nice car, nice heater, I guessed.

"Oh, lord, don't encourage him," Sylvia sighed.

Buzz put on a serious tone, as he usually did when spouting complete nonsense. "Basic Safety Rule Number One? The big one, _the most important one? _The one that keeps the car on the road and the passengers safe from all harm. That one?"

I 'uh huh'd, not really paying attention, shrugging one arm out of my cardigan.

"It is...Do not remove your clothing where the driver can see you in the rear view and be momentarily, BUT FATALLY, DISTRACTED!" he yelled.

I very deliberately pulled my other arm out, dropping the cardigan on the seat next to me and poking my tongue out at him.

Buzz let the car swerve across the road, making Sylvia shriek and dive for the wheel. There was no oncoming traffic and he pulled it back over straight away, grinning. She cussed him out. Buzz grinned some more.

"What can I say? She heard the rule. It was quite clearly stated 'FATALLY DISTRACTED'."

Sylvia walloped him on the shoulder. This time Buzz simply chuckled.

When things were a little calmer again, I asked whether we should have invited Trey out with us. I'd felt a little guilty leaving him back at the house. Especially since I'd recently found out that he was only a little younger than me.

"Nope. He can take his traitorous ass over to Shepard's clubhouse to play." Buzz didn't sound so jokey any more.

"Don't be mean," Sylvia chided him. "It ain't like you got a gang for him to be in."

"Don't mean he had to cozy up to Shepard. He knows how I feel about him an' he knows why." He shot a significant look at Sylvia.

"Oh, you'd rather he went to Brumly, or the Kings?"

"Yup."

She looked highly skeptical. "Well, Trey had to find something for himself. You know Daddy wouldn't take him on the circuit. An' don't pretend you would." She turned from Buzz to me, to explain. "Trey can't count cards, or do any of that shit. His brain screws numbers up." She made a twisting motion to demonstrate. "Like, if you told him a phone number, he'd write the numbers in the wrong order. So, he ain't no good at gambling, he can't work out the odds, or nothin'."

This was obviously a heavy subject in their family, they both looked like she was talking about Trey having some kind of major disability. I felt sorry for him, if being one of Tim's apprentice hoods was his only career option.

But I didn't stay down for long. Because we arrived at the road house and the evening began.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hi to guest reviewers, since I can't reply directly. Everyone, I love to hear what you think. I really do. And I am officially over my review crisis. But don't stop! :)**

**And to those who have asked me, yes, there are some one shots of Steve's POV during this time, but I'm not posting yet, because 'spoilers', if Evie doesn't know what he's thinking, neither can you! All in good time...**

* * *

This road house was a wide, low building, the main room so much bigger than Buck's that there was space for a small stage and a dance floor at the back, even with all the tables crowded in. The bar stretched through an archway to another, darker, room so that the bartenders could serve both rooms.

Buzz found us a little round table between the end of the bar and the stage, fetched drinks for us, then disappeared through the archway. The music was loud already and the place was filling up. Looked like some kind of happening scene tonight. Several guys were checking us out, but we were playing it cool so far, ignoring the interested looks.

Sylvia leaned towards me, her voice low. "It ain't gonna bother you, is it, Evie, that Randle's here?"

"Real funny," I said sarcastically.

She shook her head slightly, her eyes flicking towards the door. "I ain't kidding."

Oh, Christ. I summoned all my courage and met her eyes. "Nah," I lied smoothly. "It ain't gonna bother me." I didn't look towards the door. I didn't turn my head at all. It would not bother me. I would not let it. Besides, he was going to ignore me, if the party was anything to go by, so I could easily do the same.

Well, maybe not _easily._

"Okay then. Good for you." Sylvia beamed at me proudly. "Looks like he and Mathews got chicks with 'em. Why do I know that blonde one? Ooh, not Curtis, though. He's on the make again. Wanna make a bet how many hook ups he gets tonight?"

So now I had to look, just casually. They were grabbing one of the last free tables, way over on the other side of the room.

"It's Kathy. Two-Bit's dated her before. And no, I do _not_ wanna bet you anything about Soda." Not with the way he looked tonight, and I wasn't just thinking about how much of a doll he was. There was an energy about the way he moved, the way he scoped the room, that made him look positively dangerous. Girls were already discreetly fluffing their hair and undoing top buttons.

That left the other occupants of the table for me to assess. Steve was leaning back in his chair, that half bored expression - that actually meant he felt a little uncomfortable - on his face. His date had long brunette hair. Nothing special, not the full Jean Shrimpton do or anything. Not the tall girl. Never seen this one before in my life.

"Looks like Randle got sent down to the minor leagues," Sylvia sniped. I smiled at her gratefully. Glancing over my shoulder, her tone changed, she quirked an eyebrow. "Heads up. Incoming Early Birds." That was what she called the guys who made the first move of the evening when we went out, the ones who couldn't wait, too desperate maybe, or too worried that someone else would get to us first.

"Ladies. You on your own?" They were okay looking, not kids, dressed in shirts and clean jeans. Not necessarily falling into the 'desperate' category. I noticed Sylvia sit up a bit straighter.

"Yes and no," she answered cryptically. Because she'd seen what I had, that Buzz was weaving his way back to us, through the crowd. The guys offered to buy us a drink. We indicated that we had drinks in front of us. The tall one sat down next to Sylvia uninvited and said he'd wait until she finished, then buy her the next one.

"Mind if I join you?" Ah, the blond one wasn't as pushy, or at least, he was playing the part of the polite friend. I shrugged. He took that as a 'yes', sat down and introduced himself as Joe, his pushy friend as Bill.

"Holy Christ, Cooper, I been gone two seconds an' you're movin' in on my sister?" Buzz loudly challenged the other guy, who jumped up and away from Sylvia pretty quick. He relaxed as Buzz grinned. They shook hands and slapped backs, doing that weird 'guy greeting' shit, and Buzz sat down between the two guys, opposite me. He greeted Joe with more restraint, it seemed they didn't know each other so well.

"You ain't his sister, too?" Joe asked me.

I shook my head at the same time as Buzz answered, "No, she ain't," in a tone I didn't quite understand, but which seemed to make Joe look at me quizzically.

"I was comin' back to tell you lovely ladies that I had the offer of a game, out back, but I didn't wanna abandon y'all to the sharks in here. Now that I know Cooper's here...well, I definitely don't wanna leave you alone!" Buzz laughed.

"Man, you know I would treat any sister of yours with nothin' but respect," the other guy drawled, placing his hand on his heart.

"Hell, get lost then, let me hook up with someone fun!" Sylvia pouted, making all of us laugh.

Although he was joking around, Buzz still hesitated.

"Go." Sylvia waved him away, smiling. "Just tell us if we're gonna need a ride later, if you're playin' all night."

"I got my car," Joe spoke up.

Buzz nodded at him. "You better not be drinking much, then."

"Maybe I'll find something else to do. Like dancin'." Joe smiled perfectly pleasantly, but it was like something unspoken was passing between them. I sipped my drink, watching as Sylvia tapped her foot impatiently. She wanted Buzz gone, so she could move in on Bill. Buzz winked at her, picked up his drink and left us to it.

I hated this part of any evening. The pretending to be interested in who worked where and what they thought about the band. All the small talk. Maybe it showed in my answers, because Joe stopped asking questions about me.

"Do ya just wanna dance?" he suggested.

I felt a bit guilty, if I'd been rude. He was quite cute. He had a stripe of freckles across his nose and he was real tanned for a blond guy, so I wasn't surprised when he'd said he worked in construction, outdoors all the time. I nodded and stood up. No point trying to tell Sylvia where I was going, she was practically in Bill's lap as they 'talked'.

Joe grinned appreciatively at me when I stood. He obviously hadn't seen us walk in. Waving me in front of him towards the dance floor, he accepted a high five from Bill, who apparently had enough peripheral vision to take in my legs, even as he made up to Sylvia.

Joe was a reasonably good dancer and I started having a lot of fun. The band was excellent, real tight. Although it was quite crammed at first, a space cleared to one side as people moved, becoming spectators as much as dancers, their heads turning.

I saw, but didn't stop dancing even when some of Joe's attention was taken by the spectacle of Soda and the girl he was dancing with. They were fantastic, anyone would have to agree. At one point he had her bent so far back, her red hair nearly swept the floor, then he swung her around and up into his arms so smoothly, you couldn't tell if she was jumping or he was lifting her. They swayed, their legs entwined, hips so close you almost had to check they were dressed. They'd have been expelled on the spot, never mind cited for lewd conduct, if we'd been back at the school dance. That seemed like it was a long time ago.

Around us, other couples started trying to copy them, some with more success than others. One guy trod on his partner's toes and she yelped, stalking off.

Joe laughed in my ear, having pulled me closer. "Don't desert me, if I tread on you," he pleaded.

"Tread on you right back, instead?" I asked sweetly, following his moves closely.

"Ouch. Not in those heels."

The music changed, but I didn't let him back away. I kept my arms around his neck, glad he wasn't too tall for me. He was copying Soda, keeping our hips in contact, his arm tight around me. I didn't stop him when he slid it further down, holding my butt. He was about to find out just how short my skirt was.

"I think I need another drink," he murmured after a while.

"Ain't you supposed to be being good, if you're drivin'?" I teased.

Joe looked at me thoughtfully. "Yeah, 'bout that. Richardson ain't gonna be waiting to pop me one, is he?"

"Why?" I didn't know what his problem was.

"I ain't like, on his turf here, or something?"

I had no idea what he was talking about. I told him so.

"You and him?"

I laughed and shook my head. Me and Buzz? _Me and Buzz?_ I danced a little more closely against Joe, until he cleared his throat and said he wanted to sit down. The song was just ending anyway, so we threaded our way off the floor, my hand in his.

"Hey, Evie," Soda sent a lazy smile my way, over the redhead's shoulder. I smiled back. Maybe we hadn't parted on the best of terms, but it didn't look like he was bearing a grudge.

Back at the table, Joe downed his beer quickly. I was thirsty myself.

"I see you were in competition with the Sodapop show," Sylvia said slyly, as Bill went to fetch another round of drinks. "Told ya he'd be on the make tonight."

"_Soda what_?" Joe queried. "You talking about that guy dancin'? You know him?" He directed the last question at me. I'd seen him register when Soda spoke to me.

"Oh, yeah, we know him," Sylvia answered for me. "He ain't done yet though, he won't be goin' home with that Ann-Margret wannabe, count on that."

Joe looked over at Soda, still entwined around the red head. "How come you know him? He something to ya?" I was already bored of his jealousy. First Buzz, now Soda? He must think I'd been with every guy in here.

I sipped the last inch of my drink. It was mostly ice water now. Joe repeated his question. I rolled my eyes at Sylvia, who smirked. I leaned across and planted a kiss on Joe. A quick one, but I made it count. His eyes were wide when I pulled back.

"Are we done talkin' about other guys?" I asked, my tone letting him know there was only one acceptable answer. He nodded.

"Good. Be a sweetie an' go hurry up your friend. I'm thirsty." I waved him away towards the bar.

Sylvia was rocking with laughter as he shot away, practically tripping over his feet.

"Well, really. I ain't got the patience to hear him go on about Soda Curtis all night," I drawled, stretching theatrically and making her snort loudly.

"Just as well he don't know your real ex is one death stare away."

Damn her, just when I was having real fun, she had to go and mention Steve. I let myself look across the room. Steve was in the process of refusing to dance. The brunette was tugging on his hand but he just sat there, shaking his head, until she sat down again, pouting. She began talking to Kathy, obviously hoping that turning her back on Steve would bother him. _Good luck with that_, I thought mischievously.

As I registered what song the band were playing, the smile faded from my lips and Steve looked up, his eyes hitting mine dead center.

Bill and Joe reappeared, yakking, blocking my sight line, and by the time the drinks were distributed and they'd sat down, Steve was no longer looking my way. Soda was sitting down, talking animatedly and they were all laughing.

I wasn't surprised Soda had left the dance floor. He never was a big Beach Boys fan. 'Don't Worry Baby' was on his list of least liked records.

I took a large sip of my drink, followed immediately by another, letting Sylvia's chatter anchor me to this side of the room.

xXx

"I ain't bothered, it's up to you." Sylvia made a minuscule adjustment to her eyeliner in the restroom mirror.

I mused on this for all of a second, before bursting into laughter. "It's up to me whether you let Bill in your underwear?"

Sylvia rolled her eyes. "How much you had to drink? I said, 'It's up to you, if we invite them in', seeing as how you're stayin' over at mine. I did not mention where I may, or may not, let him get. I ain't decided. An' I can't work out if you're going for that Joe or not. You're winding him up and down like a friggin' yo-yo."

I shrugged. "He's kind of annoying. He's so serious."

"Hell, I thought you got off on serious. _Namin' no names_."

"Well, maybe I'm looking for a change," I shot back. And maybe I was. Being with Joe tonight had made me think about that. He didn't even know me, we sure as hell weren't together, and yet he was acting like he owned me already.

There was one particular thing he'd made me think about, though. Yeah, that was nagging at me now.

"Well, how are we getting home, if we don't go with 'em?"

"Aw, we can get a ride home out of it. Ain't like we gotta see 'em again." I shrugged at Sylvia. And so we did.

Once they'd driven us back and parked outside the Richardson house, Joe pawed at me enthusiastically. I heard Bill in the back seat, begging Sylvia to let him in the house.

"Well, that would be great, lover, but my daddy'll be waiting up. With his shotgun," Sylvia said in a serious tone. That was my cue to wriggle away and open the car door, as she did the same in the back.

"There ain't any lights on," Bill protested.

Sylvia nodded. "He don't want to spoil his night vision. Little trick he picked up in the Marines."

"You gotta be kiddin' me." Joe was mighty pissed. I shrugged apologetically and thanked him sweetly for a lovely evening. His response was not quite as sweet. The car roared away behind us, as Sylvia and I tripped up the path, giggling fit to bust.

"Sylv, you okay about this? You didn't mind ditching 'em?" I checked.

She made a retching noise. "Not even a little bit." She opened the door, grinning at me. "He musta bathed in Aqua Velva, I can still taste it." She tried to wipe her tongue. "For Christ's sake, let's find the vodka, disinfect my mouth."

"Has your dad really got a shotgun?" I was curious.

Sylvia nodded. "He ain't that good of a shot, though. 'Specially not all the way from McAlester!"

xXx

I sat at the kitchen table, leafing aimlessly through one of Sylvia's many fashion magazines. I didn't want the sandwich I'd made and it lay on the plate, untouched. I tipped a little more vodka into my glass. I wasn't sleepy enough yet, despite the fact that it was three a.m.

The front door clicked and then the kitchen door opened. No noise from the dog, so I knew it wasn't Trey.

"Hello, Evie," Buzz said with a grin, heavy on the 'E' sounds, like always.

"Hello, Buzzzzzz," I answered, like a demented bee. He winked at me, reaching inside the ice box for a beer. He patted his pockets, in a search of a church key, I assumed.

"How come you always think you have these things you look for?" I teased. "When you never do?"

"Do too," he came back at me, in a voice like a little kid arguing. He leaned down to me, all goggle eyed. "Just not always where they should be, is all..." He put his hand up to the side of my head and twisted it, revealing the church key as if he'd found it in my ear.

"Wow." I said in a real unimpressed tone. "I bet you could make good money doin' that. If you only had a rabbit in a hat, to back you up."

"Rabbits are overrated. What I need is a glamorous assistant to saw in half. Lie on the table, I got a real big saw somewhere."

I raised my eyebrow at him. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

He grinned widely, pulling out a chair and appropriating my sandwich.

"Can I have this?" he asked, around a mouthful. I simply pulled a face at him. What was I going to do, take it back? He swallowed, his eyes twinkling impishly. "I thought you might still be dancin' the night away."

I shook my head. "We ditched 'em. I didn't like mine."

Buzz looked thoughtful for a second, then he wriggled in his chair."Goddamn, my feet hurt. I been walkin' for God knows how long."

"Where's your car?" I looked at him curiously.

"Back at the roadhouse."

"Broke down?"

"Lost."

For a second I was confused, then I realized what he meant. "You lost the car? In that poker game? Don't it bother you?"

He shrugged, replying quite happily as he munched the rest of the sandwich, "Win some, lose some. You can't be cryin' over every little bump on the road." He downed his beer. Only then did he seem to notice I was on my own. "Where's Sylv?"

"Passed out on the couch, about an hour ago."

"Lightweight," he scoffed. "Anyone else home?"

His mom was away visiting, he knew that. I shrugged. "I ain't seen Trey."

"Worshippin' at the church of the bad Shepard, no doubt. Sap." It was unclear whether he was referring to Trey or Tim. Buzz yawned. "I'mma hit the hay. You around all night? Not that I can give you a ride home." He smiled ruefully as he stood up. Maybe he did mind about the car, after all.

"Yeah." I held up my glass. "Me an' my night cap. For all the good it's doing."

He tilted his head as he studied me. "I got something can help ya sleep. If you want."

I opened my mouth to say no, but nothing came out.

Buzz nodded slowly. "If you want..." He left the room.

I leaned on the table for five minutes, counting my heartbeats.

When I went past the front room, I saw Sylvia now had a blanket over her. He must have done that on his way to bed.

The door to Buzz's room was open, but only a little. The light was on. I walked right in.

He looked up and the surprise on his face grew when I shut the door behind me. I was pleased that he hadn't assumed I was following him. He didn't move from his position, lying on his bed, one arm under his head.

I walked over and took the joint from his free hand. He watched me silently as I took a drag, then placed it on the ashtray on his night stand and lay down next to him.

"I was talkin' about downers. To help you sleep. I got those," he said.

"I know." I said, eventually. I remembered Sylvia at the funeral. Buzz waited for me to continue. "Thing is," I explained, "it ain't just the falling asleep that's a problem for me." I pushed up on one elbow, turning so I could see him.

"Uh huh." He waited still, although his eyes told me he knew where I was going with this.

"It's the waking up lonely that I've had enough of."

I leaned over and kissed him.

xXx

I was lazily taking inventory of his tattoos when we heard her.

I'd yanked the blind up a little to let more of the early morning light in. The bicep on one arm had the carefully drawn cards, which I now knew represented something called the 'dead man's hand'. On the inside of the other arm, he had a pair of tumbling dice. They were beautiful. The same tattoo artist who did the cards had drawn them - they looked like they were caught mid fall, but you could see they were landing to show a five and a two. That was important, but I wasn't really listening as he explained why.

Since I'd never seen him undressed before last night, I was more interested in the line of numbers inked just under his collarbone.

"Is this in case you forget your phone number?" I teased, tracing the numbers with my finger. He chuckled.

"Nah. S'my birthday. An' Sylv an' Trey's. All my lucky numbers."

"Is that all of your tats?" I asked, trying to lift the sheet and inspect the rest of him. He twisted it out of my hand.

"Nope. You ain't been payin' attention." He challenged me with his eyes. "I got two more. Where d'ya figure 'em to be?"

I narrowed my eyes and prepared to tickle him to get him to move. And then we heard Sylvia yelling my name.

I had a sudden panic. This might not be cool. She might hate the fact that I'd slept with her brother and I'd have lost her. I wasn't keen to lose another friend. Buzz just met my gaze steadily, unfazed.

Sylvia flung open the bedroom door, mid sentence. "Buzz, you seen...Evie?" She regarded us both, tangled in the sheets and each other. "Well, hallelujah. It's about time you two got around to it." She rolled her eyes at us and went back out. "I ain't bringin' you coffee, so don't be waiting on it," she shrieked as she went downstairs.

Buzz sat up and reached across me, for a pack of Camels on the nightstand that separated the two beds. I assumed Trey had slept elsewhere last night. We certainly hadn't been disturbed.

"Ha!" I slapped Buzz on the back. "There! No fair, I couldn't see those before." He had a four leaf clover and a horseshoe decorating his shoulder blade. He grinned at me and abandoned the smokes, pulling me down into an embrace that promised we'd never get to Sylvia's coffee before it went cold.

* * *

**Uh oh. Is that the sound of all the Stevie shippers groaning? But Buzz has fans, too, right? And it didn't necessarily mean anything, just because Steve was looking at her. When their song was playing. Did it...? **


	11. Chapter 11

The first 'date' I went on with Buzz felt weird. I said as much to him as we sat in a booth at a diner, waiting for our food, the day after we got together

"Weird? Why?"

"This is kind of the wrong way round, 'cause we already..._y'know_." I dropped my voice, aware of other people around us.

Buzz laughed in delight. "Man, we gonna have another one of those _'doing it'_ conversations? It slays me that you switch between cussing up a storm and –" he went into a whisper, in imitation of me, "-_being all ladylike_."

"Shut up." I tried to scowl and smile at the same time. Not easy.

"Ha. Now it ain't weird. Now you sound like a girlfriend." He grinned at me.

_Girlfriend._ Wow. This was going to take some getting used to. The waitress brought our drinks and I sipped my Pepsi, while I considered things. He continued.

"Granted, if we only met yesterday, it would be freaky – although completely understandable, given the fact that I'm irresistible – that you ravished me without even buyin' me dinner first. Why, it makes me feel cheap, just thinking about it." Buzz pulled a shocked face. I kicked him.

"Nobody _ravished_ anybody," I objected.

"_Seduced_?" he offered cheerfully.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. He grabbed my hand and pulled until I was out of my seat and we met for a kiss across the table.

"See? How is it weird? We got to know each other already, didn't we? If it makes ya feel better, I seem to remember I had hot chocolate on our first date an' you tried to scam ten dollars outta me, lying about your name."

'First date' was ridiculous, but _he liked me way back then?_ What could I do but smile? He was real comfortable to be with.

"I have one problem with all this." His next comment yanked me out of my musing. "_This_. I always hated these." He pointed to the table. What the hell was he talking about now? He hated tables? Buzz scooted around to my side of the booth, sliding close and putting his arm around me. "I don't know why they put these things in, it's almost like they're tryin' to keep people apart."

"For the plates? The food?" I smiled.

"Food, schmood. Who the hell needs it?" He kissed me. "Take me home and seduce me again."

xXx

"Are you sure this ain't weird for you?" I asked Sylvia for about the hundredth time. She clocked me upside the head with a loaf of bread in protest.

"I told ya 'no', so quit asking. Is it so hard to believe that I'm happy to see you both happy?" She cracked her gum and tossed the slightly dented bag of bread into the supermarket cart I was pushing. We were grocery shopping because we'd all pretty much cleaned out the kitchen at her pad, after a wet weekend that kept us inside, killing time playing cards and records and munching our way through the contents of ice box and cabinets alike.

I'd addressed the issue of dating her brother straight away, that first morning. She'd been beyond cool about it, telling us both that it had been obvious to her we'd be good together - and that she'd engineered us meeting all the time to give us a push. Guess it had worked.

Before I could reply to Sylvia, Buzz slid past the end of the supermarket aisle at speed, leaning on the handle of a cart, with his feet in the air and one arm out like Superman. He didn't whoop or holler, just glided past, like it was a perfectly normal thing to do.

Sylvia rolled her eyes and stalked after him, muttering about him having gotten kicked out before, for doing exactly that. I carried on to the next section, looking for snacks.

And ran right into the Curtis boys.

I got a calm, 'Hello, Evie,' a cheerful, 'Hey, now' and a mumbled, looking at the floor not at me, 'Hi'.

"Wow, does it take all three of you to carry your groceries home?" I smiled.

"Nah, me an' Pony got suckered into it." Soda dodged out the way of a good-natured swipe from Darry. He took the opportunity to grab a box of cereal from the shelf behind Darry and drop it into their cart.

"It's not going to kill you to help." Darry replaced the box on the shelf, without even looking at Soda. I kept a straight face at the grimace Soda gave his back.

"Ooh. Howdy, Curtis bears. Y'all out of porridge?" Sylvia reappeared, with a wink and a grin all round.

If Ponyboy had been embarrassed to bump into me, he about shrunk behind Darry at Sylvia's greeting. Soda was just answering her comment with something equally facetious, when there was a yell of 'Incoming!' and a large bag of Cheetos flew over the shelves and landed on my head.

I squawked, said something I probably shouldn't have in front of Ponyboy, and span around in time to catch Buzz trying to sneak up on me.

"I was aimin' for the cart," he said, peppering my head with kisses. "There, all better, no long term cheese snack related damage. Good job it wasn't a can of soup!"

"Y'all know my brother, Buzz?" Sylvia asked, her eyes darting between Darry and Soda, who were staring hard. They both did that jerk of the chin that goes with a grunted hello in boytalk. Buzz did it back to them – I had a sneaking feeling he was doing it to mimic them. Sylvia introduced the brothers.

"Cool name," Buzz said to Ponyboy. "Not his." He pointed at Soda. "That's a dumb name. But yours is cool."

I hit him on the arm.

"What? Oh, no offence, man." He beamed at Soda.

Both Darry and Soda still had their eyes narrowed at him - Soda had been that way since Buzz had rocked up and grabbed me. Now that Buzz had his hand in the back pocket of my jeans, it didn't look like Soda was going to grace him with one of his trademark grins any time soon. Darry's glare I couldn't pin a reason for. Buzz didn't seem to notice, much less care.

What I noticed was, that he was almost as tall as Darry, and close to being as muscular. I wondered idly who'd win in a fight.

"I'mma fetch the rest of the chips. What else you want for the picnic?" he asked me.

"Picnic? It's kinda wet out." Ponyboy looked surprised at himself, that he'd spoken out loud.

Buzz nodded. "True enough, friend. _Indoor_ picnic, that's where it's at." He wandered off.

"Indoor picnic? That sounds like a gas."

Darry was unmoved by Ponyboy's enthusiasm. "Sounds like an excuse to get food all over the floor."

"Pretty much." Sylvia nodded, crossed to the other side of the aisle and started grabbing boxes of crackers.

Soda was still frowning at me. I goggled at him.

"You got something on your mind?" I challenged.

"You with that guy?"

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing."

"Well, okay then."

Darry interrupted our staring match by cursing mildly and returning the cereal box to the shelf again. I hadn't noticed Soda slip it in a second time, and obviously neither had he.

"Chrissakes, Soda. I ain't paying another ten cents for that brand because you like the squirrel on the commercial."

"But _'its nutritious and delicious''_," Soda said in a sing-song voice.

"Yeah. Believe me, you're already '_just nuts enough'_ for all of us." Darry grinned, which was real funny since that was the tag line for the cereal. He looked even more handsome when he let himself smile. Sylvia thought so too, I could see, from the way she squeezed past him to pick up cereal we didn't need. Darry just moved the cart on and said goodbye to me as he left us behind.

Sylvia stared after him thoughtfully. "Getting awful hot in here," she drawled, fanning herself with her hand. "I think this Goldilocks could find Papa Bear's bed 'just right', if ya know what I mean."

"Goldilocks was a natural blonde, wasn't she?" Soda said, in a carefully innocent tone.

"Babydoll, you're just jealous of your big brother. You don't wanna think anyone's prettier than you."

Soda laughed. "I think I can live with it. Darry beats me at most everything anyway. Kinda hard to compete with Superman, ain't it, Pony?" He slung his arm around Ponyboy's shoulders.

"Tell me about it." Ponyboy rolled his eyes.

"Hmmm." Sylvia studied the two of them carefully. "Give it time, you might be edged into third yet, Soda babe." She winked at Ponyboy and he blushed furiously, scurrying after Darry like he was shot from a gun.

"Hey. Lay off the kid." Soda's voice held an edge of serious warning. That just made Sylvia laugh. She walked off, in search of Buzz again, leaving just me and Soda. He scowled after her.

"She's only playing," I said. I knew her pretty well by now, I thought. Anything she said about Ponyboy was purely to get a rise out of Soda. And she'd sure succeeded.

"How the hell can you tell? I sometimes think I'm the only guy on the North side she hasn't had her hands on."

So, he'd got the truth out of Steve then. I gave no reaction. I wasn't getting into that.

"You didn't actually answer me before. About Sylvia's brother."

I sighed. "Yeah. We're together."

"But..."

"But nothing." I cut him off. "Don't you tell me I can't move on. Don't you dare."

Soda looked confused. "I wasn't...Well, maybe I was. Kinda. It's just –"

"No. It's done. Steve made his choices, let me make mine."

He nodded, biting his lip. Darry called him to get a move on. Soda gave me a half grin, not the full on charm offensive, more like a real smile. "You look after yourself, Evie."

As I watched him go, I was suddenly enveloped in a bear hug from behind.

"Strawberry or green?"

"Strawberry or green what?"

"Jell-O." Buzz produced two packages and waved them in front of my eyes.

"Firstly, 'green' ain't a flavour. And secondly, why the hell are we buyin' Jell-O?"

"I'm shocked. _'There's always room for Jell-O'_. It's practically in the Constitution. Sometimes I worry that you're a Commie spy, y'know. You seem very un-American, Comrade Evie."

"I repeat, why are we buying it?" I'd learned the best thing to do with Buzz's ridiculous statements was to ignore them.

"For the vodka. To hold the vodka up." He watched my reaction. "You never had vodka Jell-O? Ooh, we're gonna have a lot of fun."

I grinned at him. "I believe ya." I kissed him.

As we looked for Sylvia we saw the Curtis boys heading out to the lot.

"Sodapop seemed kinda concerned about ya." Buzz made it sound like no big deal. He 'popped' the end of Soda's name when he said it. I shrugged noncommittally. "He one of those interfering types?"

"Nah. He's a good guy, really."

"Hmm. Any friend of Winston's gotta have at least one screw loose, far as I'm concerned."

He'd made enough of these oblique comments to let me know he hadn't liked Dallas much – for the simple fact that he'd hurt Sylvia. Of course, Buzz also made enough comments to make it obvious he knew full well how much Sylvia had run around on Dallas; loyalty to his sister overrode any moral compass he had about that, though. He was very protective of her. And, above all else, he seemed actually angry at Dallas for dying, for leaving Sylvia in pieces.

But I realized Soda hadn't been introduced as a friend of Dally's.

So Buzz already knew all about the Curtis boys, the others too. That meant he knew who Steve was. And, of course, Buzz had picked me up that time outside Buck's. He knew exactly what emotional state I'd been in after Steve. But it wasn't something we discussed. I worked real hard at never mentioning his name.

xXx

Little things changed for me, after I got together with Buzz. Funny things, like the fact that I got to ride up front instead of Sylvia - when he got another car, which he did the very next time he went away for the weekend to wherever the next big game was. A '58 Fairlane with a V8 that wasn't too shabby. Not as clean as the last car, but acceptable.

It didn't take too many times for me to recognize whether he'd had a successful trip. He came back loaded with cash, often with gifts too, if he'd been somewhere with half decent stores, and he would want to party. I spent more and more time over at the Richardson house, because even when Buzz wasn't there, Sylvia and I would hang out.

Sarah wasn't so thrilled, no surprises there, but she couldn't stop me and since I felt like I was on a countdown to her leaving me the responsibility of Ma, I didn't see why I shouldn't make the most of what time I had left to get my kicks.

I went to work. I turned up for dress fittings. What else did she need me for?

I felt a little guilty that Trey had to sleep on the couch, on the nights when I was with Buzz, but he never complained. To tell the truth, he didn't always come home. No one commented on that. Not even Sylvia's mom. She didn't seem so fearsome to me now. She was like Sylvia, glittering hard at first appearance, but easy going when you got to know her. I wondered if that was why, unlike most people, Sylvia and Buzz didn't seem surprised that Ma had little input in my life; their own mother was pretty disconnected from her kids anyway. She seemed to live her own life, coming and going without much reference to them, although I picked up from a few comments that they would have more questions to answer when their dad got out of jail.

In the meantime, I grew used to having a boyfriend who disappeared for a few days every now and then, usually with nothing more than a cheerful, 'See ya in a couple.'

Other things that changed for me, those were harder to figure out. We were definitely together, me and Buzz, but he was unlike other guys in one respect. The first time I noticed, we were in a roadhouse I'd never been to before. Buzz knew a lot of out of the way places and we rarely went to the same hangouts twice in a row.

He knew a lot of people too. Not friends that we hung around with. Not like Steve and Soda and the others. Just people who he said 'hey' to, everywhere we went, guys he slapped on the back or who shook hands with him as he went past. This latest place was no different.

For once, Buzz was deep in conversation with some guy who'd joined us at our table. I was a little bored. Sylvia hadn't come with us and so I had no one else to talk to. I wandered off to the restroom, to check my makeup, for something to do.

As I came back into the main bar, a guy was heading out the same doorway.

"Hi, cutie," he leered. "You on your own?"

"No." I scowled at him, tried to walk past. He moved to the side to block me.

"Want a ride home with me anyway?" He must have been lit; we were in full view of the tables. I could see Buzz out the corner of my eye. He winked at me but didn't pause in his conversation.

I told the drunk guy to take a hike. He shrugged in acceptance and wandered down the corridor behind me. I beetled back to our table.

I waited for Buzz to say something. To show he was hacked at the other guy. To make some gesture that I was with him. He didn't say a word. I pulled my chair nearer to his, tucked under his arm, wondering why he didn't react. Wondering why it bothered me that he didn't react. He just hugged me comfortably.

When he'd finished his conversation and the other guy left, Buzz smiled at me.

"You cold, honey?" was his only comment on my cuddling into him.

"Did you see that guy?

"Huh?"

"The one hitting on me?"

He chuckled. "I saw him _try_. Figured you had it covered." He downed the last inch of his beer. "Want another drink?"

As he went to the bar, I considered this non-reaction. In a similar situation, Ricky would probably have blamed me, taken it out on me later for whatever he imagined I'd done to encourage the guy. Steve would have made it very obvious that I was his girlfriend, probably by holding onto me, maybe even have challenged the other guy, if he thought he'd gone too far. I was unnerved by Buzz doing neither.

I couldn't make up my mind whether he was just confident in himself - and so he didn't care about other guys – or whether he had confidence in me, not to go off with someone else. If it was the second, I kind of liked that.

Of course there was a third option, that Buzz could care less whether I stayed or went. That didn't feel so good.

When he came back to the table, I asked him why he didn't do anything.

He looked genuinely surprised at the question."Like what? You expect me to clock every guy who thinks you're cute? Hell, I'd never have time to do anything else. Besides, I like being the guy with the girl everyone wants. And you ain't gonna run off with some prick just because he throws you a line."

'_Everyone_' was exaggerating a little, but I was happy with his response. He obviously trusted me. Although it got me wondering some more about Steve and why he'd been so insecure that he worried over every boy who looked my way. Did he not trust me at all? Or did he not think he was worth staying for?

When Buzz closed the conversation by kissing me, it was unhurried, almost leisurely, the way he often kissed me. I'd considered this before, deciding that he was just an easy-going guy. Now I was thinking too, that he was genuinely kissing me because he wanted to, not because he was sending any kind of 'keep off' signals to the rest of the male population.

The more I thought about it, the better I liked it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Busy, busy_ - _this was going up earlier, but time ran away with me, sorry. Thanks to everyone, reading, following, reviewing - makes my day :)**

* * *

I'd been home all of five seconds when Sarah started in on me.

"You can't keep running around like this," she exclaimed.

"Chill," I told her. "Who's 'running around' for Christ's sake? I was at Sylvia's, you know that. We were sitting, not running." Sometimes her righteous attitude rubbed me the wrong way and sarcasm was the only way to go.

"I don't believe you stayed in the house all weekend. You're playin' with fire, Evie, hanging out with the wrong people. Greasers, hoods and JDs." Her lip curled. I fought back a smile.

"I ain't hanging out with any old 'greasers, hoods and JDs', you idiot. I been seeing Sylvia's brother for weeks. I thought you might've figured that out." Of course, I was secretly pleased that she hadn't, that I'd got one over on her all this time.

"Sylvia's brother? The one who drives the two of you around?"

I nodded like she was particularly stupid. "Yup. Buzz. That's him."

"_Buzz_?" She narrowed her eyes at me. "What's their last name again?"

I told her.

"_Buzz_..._Richardson_...?" It was like she was playing some kind of puzzle game, putting clues together. Had she really not known his name before now? Come to think of it, I didn't remember her ever seeing Buzz pick me up, because I was usually at their pad first. And I hadn't exactly been home much lately, to discuss things with her.

"Yeah, Buzz Richardson. Sylvia's big brother."

"Oh God. Evie, you have to be joking. Tell me you're joking." She sat down hard and put her head in her hands.

I stared at Sarah. Even for her, this was taking wigging out to a whole new level. I wondered if she'd been sniffing Tony's dry cleaning fumes a little too much.

"Chill out," I said. "I know he's a little older, but he's –"

"I know exactly how old he is. I know plenty about Buzz Richardson." She cut across me, snapping out the words. "I can't believe this. I can't believe I never knew Sylvia was _his_ sister. All the times you stayed over there..." A look of pure horror crawled over her face. "Oh my God, Evie, are you sleeping with him?"

I let out a laugh at her absurd reaction. "What the hell's the matter with you? How did we get from you objecting to 'greasers, hoods and JDs', to this? You're acting like he's the devil himself." I didn't want to have to get into details of my love life with her, but if I had to, I could easily tell her how kind and gentle Buzz was. How good he treated me. I had a sudden thought. "Is this because he gambles to make his dough?"

"He what?" Sarah said weakly, still regarding me with horrified eyes. She shook her head. "No. He's the one who...D'you remember that I told you I knew a girl at school who got pregnant?" This took us all the way back to her original objection when she found out I'd slept with Steve, of course, when she categorized him as 'the kind of boy who got a girl pregnant and ran'. I'd been so indignant at the time, defending Steve, that I'd never asked her for clarification and she'd never brought it up again. Now I watched her carefully as she told me the rest of the story. Told me it was Buzz who got the girl pregnant. Buzz who left her high and dry.

"I don't believe you." I was adamant.

"He didn't go to our school. But everyone knew they were dating. Her father threw her out, Evie. She was on the streets before she ended up in the unwed mothers home."

"Dating don't mean nothin'!" - was my immediate reaction, with Sandy and Soda fresh in my mind. "Did she say it was Buzz?"

Sarah bit her lip. "I wasn't that close with her, I just knew her from a couple of classes. And afterwards, it didn't matter. _She died_, Evie." Her eyes were anguished as she continued in a quiet voice. "Something went wrong, too early for the baby to be born, they said. She bled to death right there in the Home of Redeeming Love."

It was suddenly very clear to me why Sarah made such a issue out of the subject. Why she'd wept when I told her about Sandy. For that matter, why she'd 'saved herself' all these years. She was scared. Not in the usual, 'hey, we'd better be careful' sense, but really, truly scared of being pregnant. Which was kind of a big deal, seeing as how she was getting married real soon.

She knew I'd slept with Steve though. Pretty sure she knew he wasn't my first. Why the hell had she never told me this story, to warn me off sex? I must have been about thirteen or so, just getting interested in guys, if it happened when she was still in high school. Why had she simply objected to my miniskirts, my makeup, my going around with kids she disapproved of? She was weird. Whatever the reason, me being with Buzz was obviously one hell of a big deal for her. But I couldn't do anything about that.

"That's horrible. Awful. But it don't happen all the time. Millions of babies get born, just fine, every day. And you don't know for sure it was Buzz," I could hear the indignant tone in my voice and see the disappointment in her as she realized I wasn't giving him up because she'd told me this. "Even if it was Buzz, it won't happen to me. I ain't stupid. I know what I'm doing."

And only when I was upstairs, on my own, thinking about Buzz, did I let myself reflect on the fact that he was kind, funny, gentle – and careful. Real careful.

Way more careful than Ricky, who'd needed reminding every time and who griped and complained, to the point where I had to buy rubbers myself because he conveniently 'forgot'.

And even more careful than Steve, who although he used them, liked to get things good and hot between us before he got around to putting one on.

No matter how drunk we were, how high we were, Buzz never took chances.

I started to wonder why.

I got the answer sooner than I expected.

xXx

Ironically, for once, I'd arranged for Buzz to pick me up. But I was ready and waiting and I flew out the door before Sarah had a chance to stick her nose out of her room and into my business.

Obviously I was curious, but I wasn't about to make my greeting, 'Hi, did you once get a girl pregnant?', so I was determined to wait for a suitable opportunity to raise the subject. When that would present itself, I had no frigging idea.

Buzz greeted me with an apology and said he had some business to take care of, some details regarding an upcoming poker game that he needed to see a guy about. This would mean our date started off by a visit to a pool hall downtown. But the upside was, he said, I got to choose where we ended the evening. I smiled. It didn't matter to me, but if I ever expressed a preference that was where we'd go, anyway - he was so easygoing, he wouldn't consider it worth a fight.

Buzz kissed me when he parked up and then asked me to wait in the car.

"Are you kidding?"

"It's a dive, honey, you don't wanna be in there. I'll be five minutes, tops."

I waited. I checked my makeup, best I could, in the rear view. I tidied my purse some, using up a stray stick of gum and surprising myself by finding thirty five cents and a lost earring in the lining. Then, probably because I'd been told not to go inside, I decided I needed the bathroom. Buzz's 'five minutes' had stretched to almost fifteen.

The fog of smoke and beer fumes hit me as I walked up the stairs. The place was a warren of rooms, with a dingy bar centrally placed.

"You got a ladies' room?" I asked the bartender, when I didn't see any obvious signs. He snorted and a couple of guys, who I'd thought were sleeping on their bar stools, looked around.

"We got a bathroom, sugar. Ain't much call for 'ladies' round here." He jerked his thumb towards the next room.

As I made my way past the pool tables in the room, I winced and cursed mentally, recognizing one of the players. Luckily, he had his back to me and I slipped into the bathroom without his noticing, the sound of pool balls crashing together following me in.

But when I came out, Tim Shepard was leaning back on the table, his stick resting idly in one hand, between his legs.

"Another one of your surprise appearances?" He smirked. "You shoulda called. I woulda picked you up."

I made to walk past, but he moved - unhurried, like a cat stretching - to block my way. "What're you doing here?"

"Leavin'," I said sarcastically, although the fact that I couldn't get past him made me a liar.

He took a step forwards, I took a step back. He grinned. And did it again.

"Ain't we been dancin' around this long enough, sweetheart?" Tim was very close now and I ran out of space to back into, bumping into the pool table. The room was real quiet, only two other guys apart from him. One was doing a good impression of being asleep at the small table in the corner, but Tim's opponent just watched from the other side of the table.

Probably would just watch if Tim lifted me up and did me right there.

"At some point...," Buzz announced from the doorway. I nearly collapsed with relief at the sound of his voice, the tone light and playful as always. "At some point, even you, Shepard, have to accept. It simply ain't true."

Tim turned around, his lip curling in distaste. I darted around him, over to Buzz, who was still waxing lyrical.

"_They_ say it, I know...Who is '_they_'? You ever wonder that? '_They_' say so much shit, huh?" He shook his head, like he'd never know the answer. "Well, _they_ say it, but it just ain't true. Sorry, an' all, but it ain't."

Tim finally took the bait. "_What_ ain't true?"

Buzz's face went very still and he lost the jovial tone. "Chicks. _Don't_. Dig. Scars."

Tim's eyes were glacial. A small nerve twitched in his cheek. He noticed me slip my hand into Buzz's. "They don't dig losers like you, Richardson. Not for long. _Remember_?" He winked at me. "Come back when you wanna play with a real man, sweetheart." He turned his back on us, lining up his stick over the table.

"You _breathe_ in her direction again, I'mma take you down, Shepard," Buzz said calmly.

Tim didn't show any sign of hearing him, just took his shot, the ball exploding into the corner pocket.

Outside, I rounded on Buzz, before we'd even gone as far as the car.

"You're gonna _'take him down'_? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Hey, didn't you once complain because I _didn't_ run off some lowlife that was hitting on you?"

"That wasn't about me, in there. That was about you an' Shepard. _'Remember'_?" I put the same spin on the word that Tim had.

Buzz had the grace to keep quiet and not argue.

I glared at him. "What gives?"

"Can we at least get in the car? I'm turning into a Popsicle here." Something was off in his jokey tone, however much he was trying. He delayed further once we were in the car, by starting the engine and pulling away.

"Hey!" I objected.

"_Hey_, yourself. I ain't hanging around there. We can talk somewhere I don't gotta watch for hoods tryin' to steal the hubs while we're still in the car."

_Somewhere_ turned out to be the park overlooking the river. Not a place we'd ever been to as a make out spot, mainly because we didn't need one; we had the whole Richardson house when we wanted it.

Buzz kissed me. I let him, but then I pulled back. "Spill."

He kept his arm around me as he spoke, although his attention looked like it was on the quarter he twirled in and out of the fingers on his other hand. It was like drumming his fingers for Buzz, the thing he did when he was thinking.

"Me an' Shepard got history."

_No shit? _I held my tongue.

"When I was in high school, I had a huge crush on this chick. She didn't think I was all that...but for some reason her dad loved me. Out of all the guys she dated – not that there were that many, don't get me wrong – I dunno why, but her dad thought I was okay. He didn't sound off at her if he thought she was seein' me." Buzz was quiet for a long while. I didn't interrupt. He shook himself out of whatever memory he'd been reliving and continued. "So she told him she was out with me. When she wasn't. She went with Shepard."

I waited but he didn't elaborate.

"She two-timed you with Tim Shepard?" I prompted.

"Wasn't even that, really. Not like we were going steady or nothin'. It was just convenient for her, to have everyone think she was dating me."

"Was it convenient for her to have everyone think you knocked her up?"

That surprised him. "You knew?"

I shook my head. "Not about Shepard. Not anything about her. Someone told me you knocked up some chick, is all."

"You know what happened to her?"

When I nodded, Buzz gave me a small, sad smile. "Yeah. Well. Now ya know the rest. Wasn't me, it was Shepard." He grabbed the quarter in his fist in a sudden movement. "What I can't forgive him for is, he didn't do nothin' to help her. We were all kids, y'know. But if it hadda been me, I'd have tried to help her."

I could suddenly see his sympathy for Sylvia, when Dallas was killed, in whole new light. It was more than just being a good brother – he knew what she was feeling. He'd liked, maybe even loved, the girl who died. I thought it was interesting that he now seemed to live by a code of calm acceptance. I'd lost count of the times he shrugged off a setback with the words, 'You win some, you lose some.' Something similar had crept into Sylvia's attitude to life. Guess things like losing money, or even a car, didn't seem so important if you lost someone in the way they had.

I wondered if I could ever explain all this to Sarah. It must have been a huge deal for her crowd at school...and I remembered Darry staring at Buzz with dislike. Darry, who'd been at school with Sarah and the girl who died.

"Why didn't you tell people it wasn't you?" I thought of Soda and Sandy. Pretty much everyone knew why she'd disappeared now. Plenty of people assumed it was Soda's baby. As far as I knew, he didn't go out of his way to correct them.

For a while, a nasty, judgmental part of me had thought that maybe he wanted it to enhance his rep, to have people think he'd got a girl pregnant, like some kind of stud. But then I got to thinking that actually he was preserving Sandy's rep a little, so people wouldn't think she went with lots of guys. When Buzz just shrugged in answer to my question, I figured his motivation was the same.

What were the odds? Two kids in our neighborhood, trying to do the right thing by girls who'd cheated on them. Maybe it meant there was more hope than hoodlums.

But this enmity with Tim was a dangerous thing; a potential powder keg waiting to blow up. No wonder he loathed Trey running with the Shepard gang.

"You didn't mean that back there? What you said to Tim – you ain't gonna get into it with him, are you?" I'd never seen Buzz fight. He looked like a fighter, with his muscles and his tattoos, but he was actually one of the gentlest guys I'd ever been around. Then again...

"Aw, we don't cross paths that often. We got our own...turf. If he stays outta my way, won't be no problem."

"Did he get in your way before?" The thing that had been nagging at me was a full on itch now. I had to ask. "When you went inside, was that because of fighting with Tim?"

"Much as I'd like to say yes, I ain't never actually assaulted the bastard, if that's what you're asking. I never got hauled in for fighting."

Oh. I suppose I'd assumed it. You go with what seems most likely, what you're used to, right?

Buzz grinned at me. "Did I just go down in your estimation? You look kinda disappointed."

I told him no, indignantly. "Sylvia never said. She just told me you were in, at the same time as your dad."

"Jeez, where'd ya think I was? McAlester? I was only in County. Caught the judge on a bad day, 's'all." He laughed. "No wonder you looked down your nose at me, that first time you came by."

The time I blackmailed Sylvia and her cop. The first time I laid eyes on Buzz. I'd thought he was handsome, even with his prison hair cut. Like he was reading my mind, he rubbed my hand over his hair.

"Do I look less like a hardened criminal now?"

I tightened my hand in his hair, not enough to hurt, just enough to pull him over for a kiss.

"You look like you," I told him.

"Holy Christ, as bad as that?"

"I can live with the view." I grinned.

It was only much, much later that I realized he hadn't actually said what he _was_ inside for.


	13. Chapter 13

"Aw, c'mon, Mikey baby, gimme some change for the juke, this music blows." Sylvia was all over her latest victim, on the other side of the booth from us. He might as well have been baptized 'Mikeybaby', that was certainly the only thing I ever heard her call him.

Buzz immediately nixed her request, telling Mike that Sylvia's choice of record would be The Supremes and he would directly contribute to the fall of civilization as we knew it, if he let her anywhere near the jukebox. Buzz had very definite opinions about what constituted good music.

Sylvia's response was to smile sweetly and begin to throw fries at Buzz, slowly, one by one.

"Save me!" Buzz grabbed me and yanked me onto his lap, cowering behind me, which was ridiculous, because he was way larger than me, of course. I was laughing, but I got enough breath to yell at Sylvia to stop.

"You get grease marks on this top an' I'll..." I didn't get to finish my threat, because Buzz used the opportunity of having me close to kiss me.

"Oh, please. Get a room," Sylvia said dramatically. "Preferably not close enough to mine that I can hear you all damn night, like last night!"

"Pervert. You wanna get your ear off the wall. Why don'tcha listen to the radio like normal people?" Buzz grinned at her and started eating the fries that had landed on the table in front of us. Since he refused to let go of me, this entailed him stretching his arm around me, to chase the fries down.

"That's disgusting. An' if _you_ get grease on this top, your reward will be Sylvia getting a good, undisturbed night's sleep," I threatened. He dropped the fry he'd just picked up and grabbed a wad of napkins from the dispenser, rubbing his fingers like they were covered in radioactive waste.

I felt a bit sorry for Mike, as the three of us laughed and razzed each other, the poor guy was already on edge at having to double with Sylvia's big brother. Well, he'd have to keep up or be left behind, because a night out with Buzz and Sylvia was only ever going to be loud and, hopefully, wild.

The door to the diner opened and I saw Two-Bit ushering in Kathy. He saw me and smiled hello, but his eyes flicked back at the door. The reason became obvious as Steve followed him in, his arm around a girl with long brown hair. Her again.

They spotted an empty table on the other side of the room and headed over. Kathy recognized me as they passed and said, "Hi." I smiled at her. Steve and I locked eyes. He nodded a sort of general greeting to the whole table and didn't break his stride.

I was very aware of Sylvia's gaze shifting from their table to me, even though she never stopped talking and, although I suddenly felt uncomfortable and wanted to move, I stayed on Buzz's lap and even slid my arm more tightly around him. And I didn't look at the other side of the room once.

It was busy for a while, but gradually the younger kids, and the kids whose parents cared enough to give them curfews, disappeared and things quietened down some. That's when we decided to go too, look for somewhere with a bit more of a scene happening. Sylvia and I wriggled out of the booth to visit the bathroom, in case we ended up in some dive where you were risking your health to go pee.

Our timing was lousy, because Kathy was standing up at the exact same time, and she and the other girl followed us in.

Kathy smiled at me. "I love that top."

I thanked her, complimented her shoes in return. I had no reason not to like her. She introduced me to the girl with the long hair. Her name was Becky. She said hello in such a cool tone, that I knew they'd told her who I was. I nodded at her. I liked her shoes too. Didn't tell her so.

As I switched places with Sylvia, going into the stall, I heard her say, "Mathews getting forgetful in his old age? I seen him with you before."

Kathy chuckled. "Is that right?"

The water ran as Sylvia washed her hands. "Maybe he worked his way through all the blondes in town, an' he's goin' back around."

"Maybe." Kathy didn't seem fazed by Sylvia's comment, in fact she must have done something to point out that Sylvia herself was blonde.

"Lord, no." Sylvia laughed in delight at the implication. "He ain't my type." She moved aside for me as I came out and washed my hands, and Kathy disappeared into the stall.

Sylvia had lit up two smokes and passed me one. "I'm afraid we can't compare notes," she called with a wicked smile, loud enough for Kathy to still hear. "At least, not on _your_ side of the table." And she turned her gaze on Becky.

Glory, but Sylvia was a force to be reckoned with. I smirked, pretending to check my eyeliner in the mirror, accidentally blowing my smoke sideways on Becky. She glowered at me and Sylvia both.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sylvia said in a tone that was anything but apologetic. "I didn't mean to imply that your date was second, sorry, _third_ hand - " She held the door open for me as she continued. "Don't think of him as _used_. Just..._broke in_." She winked at Becky and we swept out.

I had to try real hard not to giggle until we were out of earshot.

"I didn't like her attitude," Sylvia said innocently.

Steve was just arriving back at his table as we walked back. He slung himself into a seat opposite Two-Bit and didn't look in our direction.

"Perfect timing," Buzz said, sliding out of the booth as we reached it. "My ears are about to start bleeding in protest. I swear it's falling off them surfboards into the water makes these dudes sound like chicks. Let's split." He put his arm around me and we left. He hated The Beach Boys as much as he despised The Supremes.

Because the song on the jukebox that Buzz was complaining about so much was 'Don't Worry Baby.' And Steve had been the only person in the diner on his feet.

xXx

We ended up in a bar downtown. I'd never been there before. Not sure I would have spotted it; it appeared tucked away between the entrance to a pool hall upstairs and some kind of office next door. It was more than busy, the place was rammed, but we elbowed through and pounced on a couple of bar stools.

Sylvia grabbed one and pulled Mike to stand with his arms around her. I hopped onto another and by chance the one next to it came free. Buzz got a whole riff going that the office we saw was a private detective's and everyone in the bar was a suspect of some kind.

"See," he whispered conspiratorially, as a man in a dark suit jacket came in. "He's obviously got the secret plans on microfilm and..." The man cheerfully greeted a woman in a red dress further along the bar, forcing Buzz to think fast. "And she's his contact, the deadly Russian assassin..._Look_. He definitely slipped something in her pocket." He gave me a theatrical nod and a wink.

At this point the deadly Russian assassin ordered a Jack and Coke in a loud Texas drawl. I cocked an eyebrow at Buzz.

He leaned into me from his bar stool to whisper, "Fiendish cover. These international spies are very clever."

Sylvia had ordered, although the rest of us had fake IDs if needed. The barman slid our drinks towards us, stacking glasses on a tray with his other hand. He poured the Jack and Coke and the guy's beer, sloshing Jack into most of the shot glasses on the tray, before he got distracted by the jacket guy calling for their drinks. More people started yelling orders from the other end of the bar. Behind us, a table of guys was complaining loudly that they'd been forgotten.

Sylvia disentangled herself from Mike and leaned across the bar, filling the last shot glass and pulling the tray towards her.

"Hey!" The barman caught sight of her. He was mid-twenties maybe, good looking in an understated way, although he was looking pretty tired right then.

"I get the tip, right?" Sylvia winked at him.

He scoffed, "You get a tip outta them, darlin', you're hired."

Very deliberately, Sylvia undid a button on her - already dangerously low – shirt. There was a definite challenge on her face although the barman still looked skeptical. We turned around to watch as she shimmied over with the tray and chatted to the men at the table.

No contest. She returned to the bar, tipped the cost of the drinks in the barman's hand and folded the remaining dollar over, before delicately tucking it into her bra strap.

The barman gave her a little salute and reached under the bar for a spare apron. He held it out, like an invitation. Sylvia considered Mike for a second or two, then grabbed the apron.

By the time things quietened down, hours later, I was yawning, leaning on Buzz's shoulder to keep me upright. Mike had bailed at some point, I don't think Sylvia even noticed. She was sparkling, you would have thought it was two in the afternoon, not the early hours of the morning. She hopped onto the stool next to me as the barman counted out some cash for her.

He snatched it back as she reached for it. "You're coming back, right?" he demanded.

Sylvia pouted prettily. "I don't know that we discussed a contract. I didn't even meet the boss yet," she teased him. He dropped the bills into her outstretched hand.

"Yeah, you did. My name's Danny. An' I want you to start tomorrow. Come by before opening an' we'll talk terms." His grin was a lot more natural now that he wasn't being run ragged by customers.

Sylvia pointed to Buzz. "That's my brother. You'd better convince him this is a safe place for me to work."

"Huh?" Buzz squinted at her. I realized he'd been half asleep himself. "Man," he said to Danny. "You don't know what you're letting yourself in for."

Sylvia objected with a squawk, but Danny just grinned some more.

xXx

"I should come in some time. I feel like a cat burglar or something, dropping you off in the dark all the time." Buzz was making it hard for me to get out of the car because he kept kissing me in between talking.

"Not a good idea," I told him.

"Why? I'm so lovable..." He was pressing me into the seat. I'd willingly have gone back to his place, but with work in the morning I needed clean clothes and a decent time to get up. He was trying to change my mind.

"Uh. My sister. She was at school with...your girlfriend...the one who..." How absurd. I didn't know the poor girl's name.

"Pauline," he said gently. "Her name was Pauline. So your sister thinks I'm some kind of monster, right?"

I shrugged, embarrassed.

"Did you tell her what I told you?"

"No. I didn't see what right she had to be in your business." I was still ready to defend him against Sarah's imagined scorn.

"But, honey, that's the point. It ain't my business. Now maybe I don't go round broadcastin' it to the general public, but if your sister's giving you a hard time over it, she oughta know the truth."

I strongly suspected Sarah wouldn't want to hear anything he had to say. But I ended up agreeing to let him come over the next day.

xXx

Awkward didn't even come close.

Ma was having a bad day. She didn't move from the couch when I got in from work, barely said hello. She hadn't even turned the TV over to one of her favorite shows, so I knew things weren't good. Normally it wouldn't have bothered me – she'd always had these ups and downs, my whole life - but she'd been doing so much better later, what with her secret walks in the yard and all. And I could have done with a buffer between me and Sarah.

There was a real danger we wouldn't have any crockery left by the time Buzz showed up, if the way Sarah was crashing it around was any indication. She'd been like that this morning too, so it wasn't only down to Buzz.

I let him in through the front door and tried to convince him that we should leave by it, immediately. But he wouldn't be told and we ended up side by side in the kitchen with Sarah, face like a statue, in front of us.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sarah, I brought these for you and these for your mom. Evie tells me she's not up to visitors today." He handed over the flowers and the box of candy. Sarah had no choice but to take them, although she dropped them on the counter like they were poisoned.

"So." Buzz smiled. "My reputation precedes me, huh? You interested in hearing the truth?"

Talk about straight to the point. I don't know who was more shocked, me or Sarah. She folded her arms and glared at me. Not him. I didn't even know he was going to say what he said, how she was blaming me, I had no clue.

"I know what happened." Sarah's voice dripped venom.

Buzz nodded. "You know what happened to Pauline, granted. It was a tragedy. No doubt about it. But I'm here to tell ya, it wasn't me. I didn't get her pregnant." He sounded so sincere, I couldn't believe it when Sarah still looked skeptical.

"You would say that."

"If it was true, I would." He nodded, his tone completely reasonable. "What would be the point of telling you that now, if it wasn't true? It ain't like I'm trying to avoid paying child support or nothin'."

I winced inside. Not sure that was a good argument to make.

"What difference does it make now, then?" She still sounded bitter.

"Plenty. If I can convince you I ain't going to hurt Evie in any way." Buzz slung his arm around me. "Which I ain't."

Sarah stood there, her expression a mixture of doubt and downright dislike. And she had the nerve to object when I was mildly rude to Tony. I'd about had it with her double standards. I was ready to launch into an attack when Buzz spoke up again.

"You know, it wouldn't kill ya to see it from the other side." He shrugged. "You think I'm a bad influence on Evie? Maybe you did good enough raising her that she'll be a good influence on me, huh?"

Sarah's eyes bulged.

"She's pretty cool, y'know. She's kind, funny, holds down a good job, n'all. Maybe you should cut her some slack."

Time to get out, before Sarah spontaneously combusted. I dragged on Buzz's arm. He smiled at me, then at her. "Looks like I'm outta time. Like I said, pleasure to meet ya, Sarah."

Outside, he grabbed me in a hug. "Jeez, warm me up, the ice queen 'bout froze my blood." He managed to walk us to the car, me going backwards, still wrapped in his arms.

I pulled a face at him as we climbed in. "What did you do that for? Why'd it turn into a list of my good qualities?"

"Dunno. Just seemed like a way to make her think about things. Anyway," he said with a grin, "you made me leave before I got to tell her _all_ the things you're good at." He leaned across and kissed me. "Although, in all honesty, most of 'em don't come under the 'good influence' label."

xXx

We went to the bar. Danny's bar. It wasn't called that according to the sign outside, but I never heard anyone call it anything else. Funnily enough, it was one place Buzz didn't seem to know everyone, at least not in the 'hand shaking, back slapping' way he did out in the roadhouses and all night diners we often went to.

I figured it was only a matter of time; now that we were visiting Danny's more, Buzz was bound to get friendly with the regulars. And of course, we were there pretty often now. After a week, it seemed like Sylvia had worked there forever. After two, like she owned the place.

She took to the hours and the work like she'd been born to it. The customers took to her right back. Obviously, she could wrap any guy in there round her little finger because, even when she had to turn them down flat, they still left a tip. Looking at her, laughing as she delivered a tray of drinks and sassed the guys at the table, I wondered why it had never occurred to us before that she'd be good at this – flirting her way around a bar all night, sleeping 'til noon...Hell, she'd been in training for years.

Sylvia waved us towards a table in back that was just coming free. As we walked over, I noticed her lean across the bar to pass an order to Danny. And I noticed him smile back at her. _Really_ smile back. Interesting.

"Hi, Evie." I looked around in surprise as someone greeted me at one of the tables. Buzz hadn't heard and he walked across to the free table.

"Hi, Kathy." I smiled back as she introduced me to the girl next to her.

"This is Bridget, my brother's girlfriend. We're waiting on the guys." She rolled her eyes and the incredibly slutty looking Bridget did the same.

"When ain't we?" she drawled, in a bored voice. Given the amount of makeup she had on, it must have been like lifting weights for her to even move her eyelids.

Kathy was okay, I'd liked her when we met before, and at least she wasn't out on a date with Two-Bit tonight. I'd about had my fill of running into the old gang. Or so I though until I experienced the current situation. Bridget's face lit up, as a couple of guys approached the table. At which point I remembered Kathy's brother was a big name in the River Kings. _Oh, shit._

"Hey." Kathy pointed to the slightly taller one. "'S'my brother, Marshall." I nodded politely, unable to stop myself noticing that his over greased hair was even more carefully swirled than someone else's. Hadn't thought that was possible. She didn't introduce her brother's friend, who matched him in looking like every mother's nightmare of a JD, right down to the _two_ blades outlined in his pockets. And those were just the ones I noticed.

Adam Murphy had the same self assurance I associated with a certain Mr Shepard, or perhaps more accurately it was pure arrogance; a way of looking at the world around him like he could do what he wanted with it and no one would stop him. Of course that had been very useful, when I wanted rid of Ricky. Anonymously.

"I'd better get back to my boyfriend," I excused myself to Kathy, praying that she wouldn't introduce me. Or that, if she did, he wouldn't know my name. To my absolute horror, Adam Murphy followed the direction of my gesture and his eyes narrowed.

"Well now, I'll just come with ya. Say howdy." He spoke to me but didn't wait and I actually had to move quick to catch up to him. As I slid into the seat next to Buzz, Murphy sat down opposite him.

"Richardson."

"Murphy."

Guess we wouldn't be needing ice in our drinks.

"You ain't working tonight." It wasn't a question.

"Nope." Buzz was still lounging back in his seat, but the coin he'd been twirling was caught, motionless, between two fingers. "Just out for a drink. Same as you."

Adam Murphy shrugged, noncommittally.

"Outta your turf, some. Even for that." Buzz observed, his tone light.

"Just pickin' up Reynolds's squeeze and his sister. We ain't staying."

I marveled at the fact that Adam Murphy appeared to have just explained his movements to Buzz. And that Buzz had neglected to point out we were there because of Sylvia. I held my tongue. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I did my level best to be invisible.

Murphy walked off without saying goodbye. He collected the others as he stalked past their table.

Before I could say a word, Sylvia appeared, unloading our drinks and a bowl of peanuts, yammering away.

"The service here is terrible!" Buzz razzed her. She grabbed for the peanuts, but he snatched them out of her reach.

"Go somewhere else, if you don't like it," she told him, settling for sticking her tongue out as she hurried back to the bar. Buzz grinned and munched happily on the peanuts.

I waited. Eventually I couldn't bear it any longer. "I didn't know you knew Adam Murphy."

He was actually a little surprised. "Didn't know you did, honey."

"I don't. I mean, I know who he is, I don't know _him_."

Buzz threw a peanut high in the air, keeping his eyes on it as he angled his mouth underneath and caught it. "We was in some of the same classes." He did it again, the second peanut nearly escaping his reach. "Ain't friends or nothin'."

"You know Kathy's brother too? Marshall?"

He nodded.

"Is she seeing Murphy?" I didn't like the idea of her two-timing Two-Bit. I liked the idea of Murphy having a grudge against Two-Bit even less.

"Shouldn't think so. They all kind of grew up together. Be like dating his sister for him." Buzz did an exaggerated shudder as he nodded towards Sylvia who was laughing with a customer. She took a tray of drinks from Danny.

Buzz leaned back, nodding thoughtfully. "Talking of dating my sister...Think that guy knows what he's getting into?"

We both watched Danny watch Sylvia as she crossed the bar room, tray held high in one hand.


	14. Chapter 14

**Well, I lost track of time/posting but here we are again. I appreciate every read/review/follow/fave. Thanks :)**

* * *

"Far out, when d'ya order these?" I opened the delivery carton and looked at the anemones with pleasure. We didn't carry them all the time, not because they were too expensive, just most people wanted bigger, fancier flowers in large bouquets.

"Huh?" Marian was unloading a new box of ribbon ties. "Oh, yeah, they were a special order. The docket's on the counter, make it up would ya?"

It wasn't one of our usual order forms, it was a piece of plain paper with printing on it. _'Anemones, just purple, especially not red'_ and the date, was all it said. I smiled. A customer with the same taste as me.

"There's no address," I called through to Marian.

"Collection," she hollered back.

"No name either."

"I've got the card." _Weird_. She usually hated doing the cards. I made up the bunch, thinking, like I always did, how pretty they were.

When it got to closing, the anemones were still sitting there, waiting. I locked the front door and pulled down the blind. Marian was finishing up the cash register.

I frowned. "That was a waste of good flowers."

"Nah." Marian smiled and held out the card. _'Happy Birthday Evie' _I read, in her writing. I grinned. Sweet of her, although she'd given me a card and some hip eyeliner on Saturday already.

"Thank you."

She shook her head. "Ain't my doing, Sweet Pea. A kid came by with the money an' instructions in an envelope last week."

"A kid? What kid?"

She shrugged. "Some little kid. Said they'd been paid to give me the envelope."

"By who? Who are they from?"

Marian let out a peal of laughter. "Honey, I think it's supposed to be a secret. No one's gonna go to that trouble if they wanted you to know they was sending you flowers."

xXx

When I got home, I was intending to inspect the anemones carefully, hoping that I hadn't crushed them on the bus. I'd wrapped them in extra paper, to keep the cold air from sending them into shock.

Kind of needed some defense from shock myself when I stepped into the kitchen and Ma handed me my mail. She looked almost defiant as she watched me take in the fact that she'd been all the way to the mailbox – at the front of the house. That was even more impressive than collecting the washing from the back yard.

"I saw the mailman go by and I just thought, damn it, why not?"

I grinned at her. "Great, Ma. You wanna show me?"

She paled. "Oh, I don't know."

"Sarah won't be in for a while..." I teased her. I kind of liked having this secret. I liked having Ma to myself in a small way.

I persuaded her to put on her coat. It had hung on the hooks in the entryway, next to mine and Sarah's, for all the years when she never went out. It was like some kind of camouflage that we had a normal life, like she was still part of the real world. She must have lost weight because it was big on her.

Ma started muttering to herself and I realized she was psyching herself up, trying to anticipate everything that could possibly happen to her once she stepped out the door. I figured that could go on for a long time, so I opened the front door and started yakking myself.

"I got flowers today," I told her, taking her hand and drawing her outside with me.

"What do you mean, you always..." She held onto the porch post, her knuckles tightening.

"Nah, not work flowers. Someone _sent me_ flowers. Anemones. My favorites. I'll show you when we go back in."

"Are they? Your favorites?" Hmm. That answered one possibility. Ma hadn't sent them. Not that I knew how she'd have got a kid to drop the cash in, all the way over to the shopping center, anyway.

"Yup. For my birthday, of course. But it's kind of a mystery, huh?" I was talking for the sake of talking now as we approached the end of our path. Ma's feet were on the sidewalk without her noticing.

"Did...did your boyfriend send them?" Her voice was getting panicky.

"Buzz? Maybe. But I don't know. He gave me presents already." I was wearing the gold necklace and earrings he'd given me. And why would he have waited until the day after my birthday to have me do the flowers, when we'd spent the day together on Sunday?

We were past the next house along when Ma's nerve ran out. She swayed a little against me.

"It's okay, Ma. We're going in now. I'm freezing. Is it colder than yesterday, do you think? Do you think it's gonna snow before Christmas?" I yammered away, turning her around and letting her set the pace back inside our front yard. I noticed that she started breathing easier once we crossed some invisible line by the mailbox. But I thought that showed progress, since last month she couldn't even have got that far.

"Hey, Ma. See that tree, with half the leaves still on it?" I pointed. She turned and looked, her cheeks shining pink from the fresh air.

"Oh, it's so ugly. I don't know why they let it grow all to one side like that," she commented.

"That's how far we went." I watched her eyes widen. "You did good, Ma. Real good. Come see my flowers, huh?"

We went in. I made tea for her, with a spoon of honey, the way she liked it. And we hugged the secret between us when Sarah came in, complaining about her feet aching after a busy day at the beauty parlor.

I took the anemones up to my room. They sure were pretty. I didn't really hate any flowers, but something about the simplicity of the purple petals seemed just right to me. I knew I'd probably told several people that. I must have.

My purse was still open, the mail Ma had given me sticking out. A pale blue envelope. I didn't have to open it to know the return address was Florida.

Sandy said she was the size of a barn. I couldn't imagine it. She was fixed in my mind as the willowy blonde I'd shadowed for years. The best I could do was imagine a basketball shape stuck on the front of her.

The size of her belly was the least of it; some of the things Sandy had said were happening to her body sounded like Twilight Zone stuff to me. I imagined I could use her letters as Sex Ed materials, maybe sell them on to the high school. They would be more use as scare tactics than the pamphlets they'd handed out to us, advising purity and abstinence. And we didn't even go to the Catholic school. Those girls got the full 'burn in Hell' deal rammed down their ears.

Even if you read the problem pages of the magazines, it was always 'hold back', 'don't give in', like boys were some kind of drug to be avoided. And how come the guys didn't get the same advice? How come it was okay for them to have needs, to want sex? But not chicks? Sounded like the worst kind of hypocrisy to me.

Who were the poor, desire-fueled boys doing it with, if all the girls were advised to hang onto their virginity?

I'd read about this new wonder contraceptive pill, even discussed it with Sylvia, who was surprisingly up to date with the news. What we couldn't understand was, why it was only allowed for married women? If you were married, what the hell difference did it make, if you got knocked up? If unmarried girls could use it, it would be fantastic, no one would ever be sent away, like Sandy. No more hoping guys would be sensible, no more stopping just when things got interesting, only for him to discover he'd 'forgotten' to shell out on Trojans.

What the hell use was Women's Lib, if not to get us this miracle drug?

I tucked Sandy's latest note in the box where I kept all her letters. She was bored, mostly. Her grandma didn't let her leave the house, except for doctor's appointments, which was when she posted her letters to me. She still insisted she was coming back to Tulsa, afterwards. I couldn't see it happening. I couldn't imagine how she would pick up the pieces of her life. The pieces of all our lives were blown far apart now.

When I'd written her about Johnny and Dallas, I'd found it hard to explain. I'd ended up clipping the story from the newspaper, letting the journalist have the words. The rest of it - Steve, me and Sylvia becoming friends, me and Buzz, - had been equally difficult. I didn't think I did a good job writing it all. She didn't understand.

I knew that she didn't because she kept finishing her letters by asking me about Soda. But what was I going to write? 'Soda's gone back to being the 'One Night King', only now he's averaging two or three a night'? Or, 'Soda's banged everything with a pulse on the North Side'?

Like most people who move away, she seemed to still be imagining things going on the same, despite what I was writing.

xXx

I got off early on Wednesday. We didn't have an official afternoon off, Marian was way more flexible than that, generally let us slide away any day, if it was particularly quiet. It made up for the late nights we had to pull when there was a rush job, or some huge Socy event, like a wedding, to prepare for. Thank God Sarah was getting married on a budget; I couldn't have coped with her if she'd had all the choices the South Side chicks had.

The shopping center was pretty quiet. I was exchanging a sweater Sarah had given me for my birthday. Luckily it was a little on the large side, so she knew I couldn't wear it. I say luckily, because it was hugely on the square side, so I wouldn't have been caught dead in it. I already had my story straight, that they didn't have any more in my size, so I'd had to choose something else instead.

"That's the one," a voice interrupted as I held up a top to see what it looked like. I span around. Kathy grinned at me. "Ain't that like the one Ann-Margret wore in The Cincinnati Kid? You should so get it – you got your own Cincinnati Kid, don'tcha?"

I smiled back. "Jeez, I hope not. He cheated on his girl, didn't he?"

"He was a guy, wasn't he? So, yeah." There was more than a hint of bitterness.

I put the top back. Didn't see myself as Ann-Margret. Kathy pulled another one out, much more my kind of thing. She picked up a couple of others and we headed to the fitting rooms. Since I was dressed for work, I didn't get the evil eye from the sales lady as much as I would have if I was real dolled up, but I saw her give us the once over all the same. Kathy always had nice threads, I'd noticed, but she was still never going to be mistaken for a Soc. The sales lady would be counting the items we brought out, for sure.

"You still dating Two-Bit?" I called to Kathy, wondering about her previous comment.

"I think so."

"You _think so_?" I twisted around to see the top. I liked it.

"He don't hardly call me, except right before he wants to go out."

"He seeing someone else?" I stuck my head out to check out the sweater she was trying. It didn't suit her and we both wrinkled our noses.

"He says not. But he would, wouldn't he?"

"Actually, no."

"You don't think Two-Bit would get around?" Kathy came out of her cubicle, looking skeptical.

"Oh, I know he would. I just don't think he'd lie about it. He'd tell ya quite happily if he was seeing other chicks."

"Where is he then? 'Cause I don't see him but once in a blue moon."

I thought about that. I was still thinking about it at the cash register, as I swapped the sweater for the top that someone from this century would actually wear.

"Are you seeing other guys?" I asked, as we walked out of the store. Kathy shook her head. Interesting. So she didn't like the fact that he made her wait around – but she waited all the same. "So what happens when you call him? You call him, right?"

"Nah."

"For Chrissakes, are both of you just sitting at home, looking at the phone?" It was unlikely that Two-Bit was sitting at home, but the gist of my argument remained the same. Kathy laughed, at herself.

"Yeah. Maybe that's it. I never really got past the first coupla dates with anyone else. Maybe the rules are different."

Ooh, even more interesting. Because I strongly suspected that Two-Bit rarely got past a couple of dates, either. Thinking back to the summer, I remembered a Christine, a Wendy, a Darla, the infamous Rhonda from the lake trip - didn't think I ever saw any of them more than once. Not that it meant he didn't see them other times, but still...

"Seems to me," I suggested, "you should establish some rules. Call him up. Lay it on the line. If you wanna keep him around," I added slyly.

"I dig him," she said simply.

I nodded. "Well, then. Tell him so. 'Cause I think he digs you too." She smiled to herself. I pushed for more information. "So, how come you never had a steady date before?"

"Aw, y'know. By the time any guy's had to front Marshall and Adam, he usually thinks it's too heavy a scene to bother coming back."

"Two-Bit must really like ya then?" I teased.

She smiled. "Actually, Marshall likes him. He knew him before I did."

"And Adam?" I was flirting with danger, to turn the conversation to Murphy, but I was intensely curious.

Kathy pulled a face. "Adam don't like anyone." But she said it in an affectionate tone, so I figured what Buzz said about them growing up, being close, was true. And maybe that was where she'd got her information about Buzz. Hopefully not anything about me and Ricky though.

"I was surprised he knew my boyfriend, he tell ya about Buzz?" Might as well cut to the chase.

"Well, yeah. They go back. Adam knows a lot of people, he does deals all around. Not downtown, not there." Kathy seemed to want to correct herself. "Me and Bridget were visiting her sister, that's why the guys picked us up there. He wasn't there for business."

I had no idea what she was talking about. But it didn't seem like Murphy knew who I was, or at least hadn't said anything about me. I was real pleased about that.

"Bridget's sister got married. She lives down that way. But the baby was cryin' and all, so we bailed and called Marshall from the bar." She really seemed to want to explain what they were doing there. Weird. So it wasn't River Kings turf, so what? It wasn't _unheard_ _of_, for people to visit other parts of the city. Even gang members. Maybe not regularly, but it wasn't like Tim Shepard burst into flames if he stepped over his gang territory threshold. We weren't talking about greasers storming into a Soc Country Club, or Socs rocking up to the Dingo, or anything major. As far as I knew, the downtown bars were neutral ground.

We stopped outside the window of a shoe store. A pair of shoes caught my eye. They looked like they were exactly the right shade to go with my bridesmaid dress. Kathy cooed over them and I told her about Sarah getting married.

"When d'ya need them for?"

"February. I know, I know, who the hell wants to get married in February? Ain't even Valentine's Day or nothing. It's right by Tony's birthday. Sarah seems to think that'll help him remember their anniversary."

"Aw, that's sweet."

I made a gagging noise and Kathy laughed. "At least she's letting you choose your own shoes! Bridget had to wear what her sister picked out. I'm telling ya, the nastiest shoes you ever saw. She hadda break the heel off, to get out of wearing 'em afterwards. And hell, the dress, you would not believe it."

I tried the shoes on. They were perfect. Way high, I knew they'd kill me by the end of the day, but it would be worth it. I got the sales girl to put them by until I could call by the bank and take out the money.

xXx

Strangely enough, it was Sylvia who put me onto where Two-Bit was spending his time, when he wasn't watching the phone, thinking about calling Kathy or whatever.

Buzz was out of town again, on the trail of a big win, and I was bored, so I wandered down to Danny's and kept Sylvia company on a bar stool that practically had 'reserved' on it for me. She went through the motions of looking at my fake I.D. – this had started as a game, but she was also semi-serious about not getting Danny in trouble for serving minors. I thought any cop worth his badge would work out that we were friends, and therefore that she knew exactly how old I was, but I went along with it.

"I saw Mathews again," she told me, as she tidied the bar at the end where I was sitting. I was pretty sure she left that chore until I came in, just so we could chat. When I queried the 'again' in her statement she looked surprised.

"Didn't I tell ya I keep seeing him go past? He's upstairs."

'Upstairs' threw me for a second, until I realized she meant the pool hall. I hovered for a couple of minutes over whether it was any of my business or not, what he and Kathy worked out. Eventually I was pretty evenly split between genuinely wanting Two-Bit to be happy with her and thinking that he deserved my interference for all the times he tried to stick his beak into my social life.

Luckily, both of those options had the same solution. I hopped down from the bar stool and headed upstairs.

It wasn't anywhere near as skanky as the dive where I'd run into Tim. It was, however, entirely female free, making me feel like a piece of prime rib thrown into a bear pit. I executed a neat little sidestep around a guy who assumed I'd been missing him in my life and scanned the room. It wasn't like Two-Bit was hard to pick out in a crowd.

He was leaning against the far wall, watching a game so intently that he didn't notice me sidle up. I leaned on the wall next to him, copying his pose.

I sucked air through my teeth and shook my head in an expression of dismay, as the guy with the stick missed his shot. Two-Bit looked around sharply.

"The hell? What're you doin here, Tink?"

"Oh, y'know, a girl's gotta shoot pool somewhere..." I smiled.

"Not funny." He took my arm and walked me away from the tables, towards the door.

"Two-Bit!" I struggled out of his grip. "Chill down some. Jeez!"

"This ain't no place for you."

"I only came up to see you."

"Up?" He looked confused, then he screwed up his face and closed his eyes. "Right. Sylvia's new game. I knew I'd haveta forget about this place."

"What game? She's working there." I defended her. "Doing good at it, too."

He shrugged. "Don't matter, I won't be here again."

"Why? Was it some kind of secret that you hang out here?" I was teasing but he actually looked shifty for a second or two. "Two-Bit?"

He walked down the staircase, leaving me no option but to follow him out into the street. He lit up a weed and paced a little.

"I just...the thing is...no one there knew Dally, y'dig?" He sighed.

I didn't and my expression must have told him so. He leaned back against the wall.

"I just feel like, sometimes, I wanna hang with people who don't know the whole story. Who don't look at me like 'that's the dude whose buddies bought it on the same night.' Who don't wonder what I'm doin', walking around, drinking, when they're not." He kicked himself off the wall, started pacing again. "Shit. I don't think I'm explaining it very well."

"Yeah, you are," I told him quietly. He stopped still and his eyes met mine.

"Does it make me sound like a real shit? To wanna be somewhere no one will talk about Johnny and Dally?"

I shook my head. "You're talking to the person who tried pharmaceuticals to escape the bad feelings, remember? At least you ain't that dumb."

"It ain't even that the guys talk about 'em that much..."

"But they remind you."

He nodded, crushing the end of his weed underfoot.

"Only sometimes, though?" I probed.

"Huh?"

"It's only sometimes, that you 'escape'? You ain't ditching the guys all the time?"

He said no, but he looked a little guilty, hunched his hands in his jeans' pockets. And that tied in to something he'd said earlier, about people judging him for 'walking around, drinking when they're not.' As if. I went a little closer to him.

"Two-Bit? You can't feel guilty, that you're here, and Johnny and Dallas ain't. You know that, right?"

When he didn't say anything, I realized he was pretty choked. And I realized I'd hit the nail on the head. I hugged him. It didn't seem weird or anything. It seemed like he was hurting and I knew how that felt. And for once, I was the one in a stronger place.

I knew that losing Johnny and Dally had to have hit them all hard. Soda's recent wild behavior could be a reaction to that, especially if I threw Sandy's betrayal into the mix. I didn't know what Steve was feeling and I probably never would. I dismissed that train of thought. Two-Bit was the one in front of me, the one I could help right now.

"Uh, Tink? Not that this ain't nice an' all..." He leaned his head back, to look down at me quizzically. I moved back from the hug, put my hands on my hips.

"What? Can't a person hug a friend when they need it?"

"Hell, yeah." He stepped towards me, arms wide for another hug, goofy grin on his mug. "I was just checkin' your shiny new boyfriend ain't gonna turn up, clean my clock."

I darted back a couple of steps. "Nah. But you oughta be hugging someone else anyways." He looked confused. I smiled. "And the best thing is, you already got her number. Let's you an' me have a little chat..."


End file.
